


Cruciform

by SunAndMoon (LadyMorgaine)



Series: Seventeen AUs [2]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Superheroes/Superpowers, M/M, Superheroes
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-16
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2019-09-20 01:06:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 18
Words: 30,409
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17012616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LadyMorgaine/pseuds/SunAndMoon
Summary: Sent to investigate the theft of some artifacts from a secure facility, Choi Seungcheol and his team of supers come up against more than they had reckoned on.





	1. S01E01

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the supernatural AU I've had running in my head for some time now! It's maybe a little more realistic, with some sprinkles of Agents of SHIELD in there. Despite borrowing their organizational structure and some nomenclature, it won't cross over with that universe much. Think of it as a wildly divergent timeline somewhere after the Season One end of that series.

A holographic globe spun in pride of place in the large, sterile-looking room. It was big enough to dwarf even Kim Mingyu, the tallest the base had to offer. Every so often, little red spots flared on it, but the globe spun on unbothered. It didn’t care about the tragedies behind the red spots, the conflict and chaos. It only stopped for the high commander of Team Seventeen, whose SHIELD base this was. It did so now as Choi Seungcheol strode into the command centre, impeccably clad in the dark grey, green-piped undress uniforms of the team.

 

One didn’t need to look closely to see that it had been a long night, and the operators on the floor tittered and gossiped quietly as he strode to his vantage point. They stilled at the deep ‘Report’ from that deck, and chose not to ignore the tension in the famously chiselled jaw. Commander Choi Seungcheol might be a softy out of the office, but inside it he was absolutely controlled.

 

“Sections Four and Fifteen reporting fewer brushfires since last night’s show of force,” one of the ladies reported. The globe stilled, spun and zoomed in, showing first the edge of Chile, then Cote d’Ivoire on a holographic screen. “HYDRA bases in Fifteen have been cleared by our secondary forces, leaders on the ground report all-clear for resumption of civilian activities in that section. Section Four is still experiencing problems with the oil spill triggered in the last battle. Science Department has offered to dispense a team to assist with clean-up.”

 

“So ordered,” Choi Seungcheol commanded with a ripple of tension down his jaw. “Dispatch two teams to speed up efforts. Next.”

 

The globe’s zoom retreated, spun around and focused on Switzerland. “Increased chatter picked up in the Mediterranean. Possible target: Geneva Convention meeting on super-ethics and medical advances in two months.”

 

Seungcheol sighed softly. “Schedule Outreach and Ghost,” he ordered. “I believe Nightingale is already invited to that conference, let’s not let him go in alone and blind.” Lee Seokmin was perhaps the world’s premier meta-Healer, considered a national treasure by South Korea and able to haul a man back from the very edge of death. Seungcheol had once seen him heal a whole village of an outbreak of Legionnaire’s Disease, only to collapse afterwards. The man was soft in personality too, a ray of sunshine that refused to be defeated by the ugly things in the world. He was, in all senses of the phrase, a soft target.

 

“Roger,” the operator said. “Entering into schedules now.”

 

The globe spun again, coming to land on Tahiti of all places, and a flicker of red pulsed. “Fort Bragg report a breach of security, level seven. Ah… commander’s clearance?” the last, bewildered operator called out. “It keeps on asking me for an override.”

 

Jerked from his contemplation, Seungcheol leant closer, hands gripping the railings tight. In response, the globe spun closer and a window opened on it, overlaid over the outline of Tahiti. “Security mode on,” he barked and waited for the almost supersonic hum before he continued. “Override X25739-HSFIAW-CSC, clearance Ultra.”

 

The open window displayed the waveform of the characters, and from the projection hub a thin red beam lanced out, scanning his retinal patterns even as the supercomputer analysed his voice print. All beeped green after a second, and the holographic map returned to where it had been.

 

“Details coming in!” the operator called. “Amulet of Zakara and First Sliver of Dawn stolen. The mages on the ground report no break in mystical protections, but the items are clearly gone and no trace remained but a small card. They have provided a high-quality scan and request a full team as soon as possible. Team One currently out of action, diverted to us by SHIELD council.”

 

“Bring up the scan,” Seungcheol ordered, trying not to crunch the railing in his hands. Fort Bragg was one of the most secret of SHIELD’s artefact storage and containment facilities, the one where all the items of greatest significance were stored. Level Seven dealt with the strongest of these, purportedly.

 

Nodding, the operator tapped a few keys and a pattern of four stars appeared, arranged like a compass or the tips of a Maltese cross. Beneath it, in impeccable golden calligraphy on the red of the cardstock, a simple ‘Cruciform’.

 

Seungcheol straightened. “Prepare the jet,” he ordered. “Get my team on it, we depart immediately.”

 

It took barely an hour for all the checks to be done and all personnel to arrive on the jet. As Seungcheol wandered on, he saw Hong Jisoo and Jeon Wonwoo talk quietly to each other on one side of the lounge. “Outreach, Gaius,” he greeted tiredly. “Villains never sleep, it seems. Jisoo-ah, how’s the noggin? Sinistra wasn’t kind last night.”

 

Hong Jisoo turned his flower-face to smile at him. “Life’s like that, Cheol,” he muttered. “Seok-ah will give us something, I’m sure.” He offered a thumbs-up. “Little bit of a headache, I’ll sleep it off on the flight over.”

 

Seungcheol sunk down briefly on the arm of the sofa. “And you, Wonwoo-ya?”

 

Wonwoo gave him a slow, shy smile. For a moment his eyes reflected oddly, more like the tapetum lucidum of an animal than a human's more ordinary retinal flash, but with a bird-tilt of his head the reflection receded. “We’re fine, Commander,” he confirmed softly. “Iggy and I have been resting for the last week, we’re at full power.”

 

Somehow, Seungcheol had never quite understood _how_ , the spirit of a shaman had chosen Wonwoo as his physical link, gifting him with power over all kinds of animals. He had seen him as strong as a grizzly, and swimming with the speed of a dolphin. Sometimes… sometimes the animals channelled were quite frightening, like the once they had gone up against a brontosaurus some stupid villain had gene-created, and Wonwoo-ya had promptly channelled a Tyrannosaurus. That day had given him a new appreciation for Jeon Wonwoo’s capabilities. “Right then, where are the others?”

 

“Maknae Line are playing kai-bai-bo for the right secondary bunk,” Jisoo said with a slight pause. “All three are cheating _horribly_. Jihoon is already asleep in the left tertiary, and Seokmin is in the cockpit getting the carrier ready for departure. Jun is with him.”

 

Seungcheol wanted to groan. Kim Mingyu, Chwe Hansol and Lee Chan were the most boisterous. Oh, they were _good_ , otherwise they would not be on it, but they were also noisy as hell. “I’ll go and see if I can get them to calm down. Make sure to strap in, you two – Wonwoo, I’m counting on you to make sure that Jisoo gets some sleep after a turn past medical, okay? Jisoo, you and Jihoon are excused from the briefing, catch a nap first.”

 

Wonwoo’s shy smile peeked out again and he consented with a nod as Seungcheol stood. Jisoo merely rolled his eyes, but shot him a thumbs-up. He wandered to the bunk section of the carrier, hearing the three by noise levels long before he saw them. Kim Mingyu – Stride – _was_ cheating horribly, using his teleportation abilities to flicker into new choices, but Lee Chan had him by one arm, forcing him to stay where he was. Behind them, the most chill of the three had long since disappeared from sight, but Seungcheol could see the weight of a body sinking onto the lower bunk. Clearly, today Schrodinger would win it, but then Chwe Hansol was like that. It wasn’t bad, using his teammates’ noise to be sneaky.

 

“Guys,” he said quellingly. “Guys! Give it up, Hansol-ah won this time.”

 

The two still fighting blinked, then looked at the bunk where Hansol was fading back into visibility with a Cheshire cat smile on his face.

 

“God _damn_ it,” Chan snarled sulkily, making a dive for the bottom bunk of the two, and made it there a split-second before Mingyu teleported in on top of him. A scuffle broke out, but eventually a pouting puppy version of Mingyu scrambled off and moved to hang one arm off Seungcheol’s shoulders instead.

 

Seungcheol, feeling the engines of the carrier start spinning up, spoke quickly. “Mingyu, you’re in with Jihoon. He’s asleep, so you’ll probably be able to steal the top bunk there. Just don’t wake him up, okay? He worked hard last night. We’re going into a level seven zone…”

 

“What?!” Mingyu asked, shivering with excitement. “A level seven? I’ve never even heard of one!”

 

Seungcheol pushed him off and away. “Stop before you vibrate through the carrier’s hull,” he scolded. “All of you, we’re having a briefing in four hours, so make sure you swing by Medical on the way, Seokmin will have a different scanning protocol this time around. For now, just strap in, okay?”

 

The three of them saluted him, all three sloppy, and he shook his head as he wandered out to check on Jihoon. The smallest member of their team, but also possessed of a temper like a volcano, he was one of the big guns with his control over fire. Pycon had a record like a veteran for all he was twenty-three. Peeking into the cabin, he frowned at the unhealthily pale look on his second’s face, but tugged the blanket a little more firmly over him, buckled him up and dimmed the lights. He’d have to speak to Seokmin about him again.

 

It took him a minute to leave the crew section and climb the ladder to the control deck of the large carrier, arriving there just in time as Lee Seokmin strapped himself into the pilot’s chair. Because he mostly stayed on the carrier, he had chosen to get qualified as a pilot and ops, often acting as control whilst they were out in the field when his special gifts weren’t needed. Beside him, easily stretching his tall frame into the chair was Ghost or Wen Junhui, a Chinese member with the power to make himself selectively intangible. He spoke the least of any man that Seungcheol had ever met, though that didn’t stop him from playing jokes on the youngsters in the team.

 

“Hyung,” Seokmin greeted happily as he pulled the control harness over himself, setting up the holo-interface. “How are you?”

 

“Tired,” Seungcheol told him sourly, reaching over to tap his authorization into the control panel for the secure flight route to be released. “We have a briefing in four, I told the guys to get past you before that. You’ll have to take level seven precautions, we’re going to Fort Bragg. Also, take a look at Jihoon’s energy levels for me, I think he lied about how wiped out he is.”

 

“Will do,” Seokmin agreed. “You know he does that because he feels responsible for mission length. And level seven?” He peeked down at the controls, scanning the flight plan quickly. “Really?” he questioned incredulously. “Tahiti?”

 

“Mm-hm,” Seungcheol confirmed as he strapped himself into the engineer’s chair, nodding to Junhui as he got comfortable. “I hear it’s a magical place.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Team 17: 
>     * Choi Seungcheol – Invulnerability - Stonejaw 
>     * Hong Jisoo – Telepathy - Outreach 
>     * Wen Junhui – Intangibility - Ghost 
>     * JWW – Talking to Animals - Gaius 
>     * LJH – Pyrokinesis - Pycon 
>     * LSM – Healing - Nightingale 
>     * KMG – Teleportation - Stride 
>     * CHS – Invisibility - Schrodinger 
>     * LCH – Superhuman Strength - Atlas 
> 



	2. S01E02

Contrary to his wishes, it was more like eight hours later that the briefing happened, and everyone squeezed in around the mission table, even the people he had wanted asleep. Jihoon no longer looked waxy, since Seokmin had practically crammed glutamic concentrates down his throat, but between the sleep-ruffled hair and grouchy bear expression, clearly it hadn’t helped all the way. For a moment Seungcheol allowed himself to bask in Jisoo’s gentle smile, now painfree, before he began.

 

“At 01:28 last night, one of the keepers of Fort Bragg’s protective detail made his rounds around the level seven vault area,” Seokmin read off the display. “He said that nothing seemed wrong on his first round, but that the genus loci of the place felt off…”

 

“The what?” Mingyu interrupted.

 

“The feel of the place,” Jihoon grumbled as he sipped at his coffee. “The spirit of it, the sense of it, the energy of it. It’s a magic thing.”

 

“Ohhh. I thought magic didn’t exist,” Mingyu muttered.

 

Seokmin smiled at him. “What is magic but technology we can’t explain yet?”

 

Seungcheol cleared his throat. “Continue please.”

 

“Right. He summoned one of the warders of the place and explained his suspicions. Clearly whatever he felt impacted the warder as well, because he and others of his circle created an opening in the wards for just long enough to get remote control visuals working. Most of the stored artefacts were still where they should be, in their containment fields, but for two. The Amulet of Zakara is ancient, once used in pre-Mesopotamian times though its uses are unknown to us. It was found in the depths of the Krubera cave complex in Abkhazia, Georgia.”

 

Chan brightened. “I love Georgia,” he said enthusiastically. “Not so much for the sweet tea though.”

 

“Other Georgia,” Hansol drawled, pointing at the map. “The one near Central Asia. Less sweet tea, more Russian.”

 

Jisoo frowned at the notes. “Possible terrorists wanting to return a national treasure?”

 

“Unknown,” Seungcheol said, looking down at the small holo-representation of the pendant. It looked rather pretty, though small; the only indication that it might not be natural was the Mobius-like appearance of it, and the way it led the eye deeper and deeper… he blinked, coming back to himself. “Go on, Seokmin.”

 

Seokmin flicked two fingers against the image, pulling up the next. “The First Sword of Dawn. A weapon of possibly alien origin, but it was found in the fossil fields of Olduvai Gorge by Louis Leakey in the 1940s.” Pulling up a picture of what looked like a small feather, he nodded to it. “It was encased in the same fossil field as some _homo habilis_ remains. When under observation it seems to cycle through forms, and everything from a pen to a knife to a broadsword has been reported.” He cleared his throat. “The Sword is the first known 0-8-4-type. According to notes left by the Leakeys, there were some evidence in the gorge that the Sword was responsible for the Great Rift Valley.”

 

Amidst the quiet of the circle of shocked faces, Jihoon looked up at Seungcheol. “We’ve never dealt with one before,” he muttered. “Especially not with one that caused what most people think of as tectonic activity. Are we geared for this?”

 

Seungcheol shrugged. “It was diverted to us by the Council. First Team is unavailable at the time, and anyone that can sneak in unnoticed to steal two artefacts from a Level Seven facility is dangerous enough to pause the Hydra Hunt for a while. The only person that I can think of that’s snuck into one before is on this team.”

 

Wen Junhui, never loud, cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I can go through wards,” he admitted in his soft, lovely voice. “I never had to try, either as a SHIELD agent or… or before.”

 

Seungcheol considered him. Wen Junhui had been the world’s best cat burglar once upon a time, somehow able to walk through matter as if it’s simply not there. Luckily for SHIELD, his own country had a kill-on-sight order on him, which had allowed him to recruit him onto the team. Somehow, he still wasn’t sure he hadn’t joined out of complete boredom. “Don’t get ideas to test that at Fort Bragg,” he teased. “They might not have much of a sense of humour.”

 

Hansol reached out to tap the representation of the small note, pulling it up into the air to zoom in on the display. “A calling card?” he asked Seokmin.

 

Their healer shrugged. “Unknown, though I suspect so,” he said, continuing the briefing. “I’ll have to run some tests on it so please recover it for me. The calligraphy on it is modelled after Carolingian miniscule…”

 

“It’s so elegant,” Wonwoo interjected dreamily. “A master’s hand.”

 

Seokmin nodded. “Whilst most blackletter typefaces are based on Antiqua or Fraktur, this is earlier, a copy of work around 790AD. The word itself, ‘Cruciform’, means ‘in the shape of a cross’. If it is a calling card and Cruciform the group’s name, it’s one we’ve not come across before. The records are empty.”

 

“I don’t like empty,” Jihoon grumbled past the lip of his mug of coffee. “The unknown has a way of surprising all of us.”

 

Jisoo smiled at them. “That’s why we get paid the big bucks, I suppose.”

 

“That’s why you level six agents get paid big bucks,” Chan sniped in from the side. “I’m only a four, I’m barely making rent as it is.”

 

Seungcheol fought not to roll his eyes. “You live in a free apartment off-base,” he got out. “I’m only paying for you, Channie, not your manhwa addiction.”

 

Chan sniffed.

 

“Regardless,” Seungcheol said quickly. “Regardless of our levels, this isn’t something we’ve encountered before. This team is the only stable working Gifted team that SHIELD _has_ at the moment. That’s why we were sent. Each of us has powers that might make this less dangerous. They can’t send in normal agents against a group capable of spiriting something away from Fort Bragg without a trace. It’d be like the Kree Temple mess all over. We’ll land, we’ll see what we can, and we’ll track these bastards down. Seokmin, what’s the team’s condition like?”

 

Seokmin shut the presentation down. “Most are disgustingly healthy,” he reported. “Also, I need to put in a requisition order for new testing equipment, Chan-ah broke the strength test _again._ ”

 

From his position, Chan smirked proudly.

 

“On a more specific level, I am only authorising partial clearance for Jihoon-hyung.” Seokmin ignored the _look_ from the team’s second. “His energy levels have recovered somewhat, but he’s not up to another prolonged fight like last night’s. His mitochondrial stores will only replenish in a week’s time, given current rates – and yes, that’s _with_ the way he eats already reckoned in.”

 

“I’m fine,” Jihoon groused, finishing his coffee.

 

Seokmin gave him a sunshine smile, but didn’t budge in the slightest. “Jisoo-hyung is fine as well, I’ve cleared him for a full return to the duty roster.”

 

Seungcheol nodded quickly. “Alright,” he noted. “Jisoo, Hansol, Mingyu, you’re on secondary duty with Jihoon once we land. Surveillance on whatever locals might be around only; Mingyu, if something happens you get them out of there. Jihoon, you are _not_ to engage. Jisoo, contact me immediately if something goes wrong. Hansol, if all else fails, maintain invisibility and work with Mingyu to get everyone back here.”

 

“Yessir!” Mingyu said with a big smile and another floppy salute. Jisoo, Hansol and Jihoon merely nodded.

 

“Wonwoo, Junhui, Chan, you’re with me,” Seungcheol continued. “We’ll proceed to Fort Bragg and get started with analysis of the scene. Pay attention to what you’re feeling as well as what you’re seeing. We are not, and I underline NOT, going in there to try out all the new artifacts. Seokmin, be on standby here, we’ll remote-link the equipment back to you. I…” He broke off as a beep sounded from the cockpit, the five-minute signal for descent.

 

“Keep it tight,” he concluded. “Wings down in fifteen. Get ready, everyone, and good luck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Fort Bragg isn't real, just a made-up location in the Society Islands, where Tahiti is also located. 
>   2. The Krubera cave is quite real, and the deepest cave in the world. It's located in Abkhazia, which is (I think) a semi-independent republic inside Georgia. 
>   3. Olduvai Gorge is also real, as is the Great Rift Valley, and is located in Tanzania. 
>   4. An 0-8-4 is something quite powerful and dangerous. 
>   5. Carolingian miniscule is a kind of typeface used from 780-1000AD somewhere. Think of those heavy-looking gothic letters, sort of. 
>   6. At a comment from a friend, I removed some of the 'ah/ya' that Koreans tend to insert when speaking to younger, familiar people. I'll still keep the hyung though.
> 



	3. S01E03

The vast majority of Tahiti turned out to be beaches and tourism. The carrier, disguised, flew over the larger island on its way to the smaller one Fort Bragg was situated on, and it was sand and pina coladas as far as Seungcheol could see. For a moment it was all he wanted to do to call a halt to the mission and go and have a swim first.

 

“It’s a balmy twenty-nine degrees today, with forecasts shading towards a light afternoon shower and a beautiful sunset,” Seokmin read off the weather channel he had accessed. “It’s prime holiday time in the Society Islands. We, on the other hand, are going to roast.” The carrier dipped as the instrument panel chirped a clearance code, and he settled them down to one side of the Colonial-era fort, tucking the carrier in under an overhang of palm trees. “This place is practically a postcard.

 

Seungcheol looked down at the light-weight cotton of his pants as he unbuckled, straightening to pull the overshirt off. In the cool comfort of the carrier, he could feel gooseflesh pimpling along his arms. “Lovely,” he muttered. He went to drop it over his luggage and eyeballed his people as they met him in the small ops area. Of the lot of them, the surveillance team looked the most comfortable, clad in light gear that wouldn’t look out of place amongst the tourists flocking to the famous black sandbeaches.

 

“The operational window is two hours,” Seungcheol announced as he caught all their gazes, pulling them back into a mission mindset. “We’re going to go in, talk with the warders here and see what we can pick up. As soon as team A leaves, the rest of you are cleared to go into the closest village. Find out what’s going on, any recent little upsets, the like. You know the drill.” He looked at their faces, sighing softly. “Go… go get an ice cream or something.”

 

“Bring us something back!” Mingyu entreated.

 

“You got it, man,” Hansol responded.

 

Seungcheol glanced at his watch, checked with the others and nodded to start the mission. It didn’t take too long to wander down and out, with the heat and humidity hitting them in the face with tropical fervour. The white walls of the Fort looked cool and unassailable underneath the sun’s gaze, and he hurried to it, feeling Jisoo’s delicate touch settle down at the very back of his mind. There was little sign that the carrier department, cloaked as it was, and so he didn’t look back as he strode towards the entrance with his team on his heels.

 

Walking into the arched entrance of the Fort felt like a sledgehammer to the face, and his eyes watered going into the sudden darkness from the bright outside. He blinked into the cool darkness, felt his shoulders relax and looked behind him. Chan was standing off to one side as Junhui and Wonwoo fanned out. Both were skimming their hands along the stone walls and cool, dark woods that made up what looked like a foyer of sorts.

 

Junhui tilted his head as if listening to the walls, going so far as to pat them with one gloved hand. Seconds later, patting the hardwood floor, he frowned and shook his head. “There’s something… I can still get through these walls, but there’s something lower down that feels a lot less penetrable. There’s something here, not quite a person? Just a feeling. But it feels guardedly unfriendly if I can put it like that.”

 

In the dark ambiance of the foyer Wonwoo’s eyes reflected light like a cat’s, grace reflected in the way he lowered himself to all fours before pressing his right ear to the floor. Seungcheol watched as his mouth opened slightly, but nothing emerged that he could hear.

 

“Is he okay?” a voice came from one of the twin staircases leading to the first floor.

 

Seungcheol looked up and scanned the man that had appeared. He was dressed in the same uniform as theirs, albeit what he’d call tropical gear: ultra-light fabrics in light colours, with only a tiny shield pin on the collar of his shirt to indicate affiliation. Smiling, he stepped forward to shake the man’s hand carefully; in that handshake the slight tingle of recognition devices pairing travelled up his arm, and he sighed with a little relief.

 

“He’s using a form of hypersonic echolocation to discern the various strata of the surroundings,” Seungcheol explained. “Just a quick one-two scan. Captain Roberts?”

 

The man nodded. “Evan Roberts at your service. Commander Choi Seungcheol, correct? If you’re done, I can take you down to the control room. I’ve got the warders about to hit the conference room as well, if you want to talk to them, or have them escort you down to Level Seven.” As he spoke, he dug in a pocket, pulling out four badges. “Here, temporary clearance for your team.”

 

Seungcheol took them and handed them out. “This is Wen Junhui, Jeon Wonwoo and Iggy, and Lee Chan,” he introduced as he handed each their badge.

 

Captain Roberts nodded, exchanged a few more pleasantries and escorted them to a very modern-looking lift tucked away in what appeared to be solely a decorative nook. As they descended into the ground, the feeling of confinement grew almost oppressive until Wonwoo cleared his throat. “Sorry,” he apologised in smooth English. “Iggy is complaining about the warding, it’s attenuating his senses so he’s trying to bull through.” He transferred his gaze to Captain Roberts. “Would it be possible for him to get clearance from your warders down here? He’s a Class-Two entity through which I obtain my powers.”

 

“I’ll see to it in a second,” Captain Roberts promised as the lift stopped and dinged open. He escorted them down a severe-looking corridor lined with cool LED lights, into a room adjunct to what looked like a control room, then out on the other side into a small conference room where a couple of people lounged around the table. A quick spate of rapid-torrent French had one standing – an Islander by the look of his features and skin – and he crossed to touch Wonwoo. Seconds later the tension broke.

 

“You must excuse, please,” the man said with a notable accent as he sat down again. “Thanks to the theft, we are operating on a higher level of security than before; there are several wards in action that we could not key you into before arrival.”

 

Wonwoo shook his head shyly. “No matter,” he murmured. “Iggy understands.”

 

“You have a wardstone on the premises?” Junhui asked as everyone sat down. “I’ve only felt one before at the Forbidden City.”

 

The warden nodded. “It is a requirement of the spells we use to ward and protect. It is buried at the deepest depths of this facility although…” He tilted his head, first to Captain Roberts, then them. “It is not from _distrust_ that we do not tell you precisely where.”

 

Seungcheol smiled. “That’s as it should be. Forgive me, I’m not feeling anything, but there was mention of a disturbance felt by the guard – are all personnel working here sensitives?”

 

Captain Roberts shook his head. “Not all, though the vast majority are. The artefacts stored here are not secured solely through technological means. That can be bulled through, or compromised in other ways. Of all the levels here, levels six through seven require at least two sensitives on each watch, one to monitor the wards passively in the control station down there, and one that walks on a security team. On the shift in question, Jesus Carreiro…” He broke off to indicate a neat, older-looking gentleman on their far left. “…was the guard that raised the alarm.”

 

The guard nodded and leant forward. “It’s akin to hearing a noise all your life and knowing something’s amiss because it changed in pitch or it’s no longer there,” he explained. “It was just a hunch, but that’s one of the things you learn early on here, hunches are to be listened to. Protocol dictated that I report back in, so I alerted the group in Control Room Seven and Almeira notified the warders.”

 

“Almeira?” Seungcheol questioned, looking at Chan, who was taking diligent notes.

 

Jesus nodded. “My cousin. We were trained as a team in South America before being transferred here.”

 

“Heimona?” Captain Roberts questioned.

 

The large warden that had spoken earlier nodded. “We suspended the first few layers of warding so that we could get remote-control devices working. When we checked, the two artefacts were missing, and the card lay on the Sliver’s crate.” He reached out across the table to hand over a piece of red cardstock in a protective sleeve, scarcely larger than the palm of his hand.

 

“Is the technological barrier standard operating procedure?” Chan questioned.

 

“For this facility it is. It is one of only two facilities on Earth located directly on a nexus of ley energies, and most of the artefacts down there are dangerous enough to require very careful handling,” Captain Roberts explained. “This level of magic doesn’t always play well with technology, we’ve found. The team that broke in had to have been highly magical as well as tech-savvy.”

 

“Dangerous,” Seungcheol pondered. “Generally the two worlds don’t mix well, which gives my officer here daily headaches.”

 

Wonwoo nodded. “Iggy is fascinated with the modern world,” he shared. “But he’s also highly derisive of modern technology. He calls it the cheap man’s magic.”

 

Heimona rumbled a laugh, and the other members of his team stifled snickers as Captain Roberts rolled his eyes.

 

“Is there a way we can see the actual storage room?” Junhui asked.

 

Heimona sat back to look at Captain Roberts, doubt clear on their faces.

 

“Not the whole team,” Seungcheol said. “But Wonwoo and Junhui at least; between them they can check for most conditions that I’d be curious about. For the rest of us, if you can make the logs and camera footage you obtained available to Chan, we can wait up here.”

 

Captain Roberts looked back at Heimona, who shrugged and nodded. “Alright,” he said as he stood. “Commander, come with me. Heimona, take the others into the Vault, but with what security measures you may. If something _twitches_ , you come right out. Jesus, go with them, you’re most used to the energy down there.”

 

Nodding, everyone else stood and the team split up.


	4. S01E04

Almost ten kilometres away, fresh out of the carrier, the second half of Team Seventeen wandered into the edges of Tautira, the nearest of the villages to the fort. Jihoon, clad in undress pants and a filmy long-sleeved shirt that protected his fair skin somewhat, pulled the baseball cap down a little more firmly, making sure that his wrap-around sunglasses were steady on his nose. “Seokmin,” he said softly, trusting in the contact button behind his ear to pick up his voice. “How’s the feed?”

 

“Crystal-clear!” came over his in-ear. “Wah, it’s so pretty. Go and eat something messy!”

 

Jihoon snorted and looked up as a shadow crossed him. “There,” he ordered irritably to Mingyu. “Stand right there and keep this sun off me.”

 

Mingyu laughed boisterously. Like Hansol, he was in shorts and a sleeveless t-shirt, with most of his weapons hidden beneath the floppy swell of the shirt. “I see umbrellas and a beach restaurant,” he said, pointing down one narrow street. “And there’s a nice breeze. Chan’s gonna be upset that he missed it.”

 

Jihoon didn’t bother reminding them not to drink on duty. The boys might be unruly and loud, but they’d never jeopardise a mission. “You two go look for ice cream and gossip,” he ordered. “Jisoo and I will wander there. We’ll meet up in an hour or so. And if Hansol finds a music shop and he gets stuck, drag him out.”

 

Hansol said nothing, just smiled and slouched away breezily, the very picture of laid-back skater fashion.

 

Waiting for them to wander off, he glanced at the last member on his team today. Jisoo had long pants on like him, but short sleeves, and he was industriously piling on more sunscreen. “Drinks?” his hyung asked softly. “I’m picking up something about watermelon juice down there.”

 

Jihoon nodded and started wandering with him. “How’re the others doing up in the fort? Still holding steady?”

 

“So far so good,” Jisoo replied. “My contact is a little attenuated, they’re very far underground, but still within operational parameters.”

 

They let silence fall companionably between them as they wandered to the beach-side bar, kicking off their sandals like most of the locals as they sat down under a huge umbrella. Jihoon wanted to sigh with the relief from the sun, but between his own layer of sunscreen and the humidity he felt sticky and irritated. The sight of the menu on the table cheered him up considerably, as did the very long drinks list. “What’s for lunch?” he asked as the waiter idled up at his side.

 

It wasn’t so much anything Jisoo said as the ripple of shock along the link the telepath had in his mind that prompted him to look up. Jisoo was industriously staring down at the menu; their waiter, rather than one of the locals, seemed as Korean as they: beautiful fine-boned features almost as fox-fey as Jisoo’s, with wheat-blonde hair in a perm and laughing brown eyes. For all that, he was dressed exactly like everyone else here, a sleeveless shirt with the bar’s name on it and cargo shorts exposing strong legs all the way down to dusty feet and a diver’s intricately braided bracelet around one ankle.

 

“Hi, I’m Shaun,” he said with a stunning smile, albeit in native-sounding French. “The lunch special for today is roast pork from the ahima’a, accompanied by po’e and uru. I can also recommend the poisson cru, the tuna is extremely fresh, off the boats just this morning. The café’s drink speciality is pineapple rum with crushed grenadine ice, very refreshing.”

 

Jihoon considered him before responding in the same language. “Is there a non-alcoholic version of the rum? In, like, a litre glass?”

 

Their waiter laughed. “Pineapple juice with pomegranate ice, coming up, tall. One, or two?”

 

“Two please,” Jisoo mumbled, head still stuck in the menu.

 

“And to eat a double portion of the special, along with the poisson cru,” Jihoon decided. “We have people coming over later, if you can please leave two chairs here. Also a large bottle of sparkling water, please.”

 

“Got it! And yes sir, I’ll do so.”

 

He fit deed to word, leaving them with two extra chairs and enough space to stretch out in before vanishing inside.

 

“What the hell, Jisoo?” Jihoon asked very quietly. “What was that?”

 

Jisoo didn’t answer, but the tops of his ears tinged pink, giving Jihoon his answer and plenty of teasing material later on. The drinks arrived almost immediately, with the food ten minutes later. When Jihoon saw the mountain of pork and rice, accompanied by a large dish of what looked like pudding and some kind of funky potato-looking fried wedges, he nearly started praying. Shoving what looked like marinated fish over to Jisoo, he grabbed his fork and started wading in.

 

Fifteen minutes later, through most of a second glass of pineapple juice and most of his food, he sighed and sat back, feeling like a whole man again. The gnawing hunger that had nibbled at his spine even after the energy supplements were gone, and if the price of that was slightly baffled-looking tourists and Jisoo rolling his eyes, it was worth it. “How’s the fish?” he thought to ask, emptying the last of the pudding onto his plate, and polishing off the rest of the breadfruit chips.

 

“How’s the pork?” Jisoo asked snarkily. “I thought I’d try some, but for a moment there I was frightened you’d jab your fork through my arm if I came close. The fish is delicious.” He speared a cub on his fork as peace offering and handed it over. “I think the people are betting that you have a hollow leg or something.”

 

The tuna _was_ delicious, Jihoon had to admit, almost as good as the fatty pork. It had been marinated in some kind of coconut and lime sauce and melted in his mouth. “Wow,” he muttered, handing the fork back with a piece of pork on it. “Tastes almost like samgyeopsal back home. I’m gonna order another. You want some? Fish? More juice?”

 

“See if they offer takeaways here,” Jisoo advised prosaically, nibbling on the pork. “Yum. And some juice. The boys are still busy along the arts section,” he murmured quietly. “Nothing out of the ordinary so far.”

 

“Lots of takeaway,” Seokmin pleaded over the in-ears. “I’m tired of just watching Jihoon-hyung’s glutamic index rise.”

 

Jihoon signalled the pretty waiter, and he trotted over obediently with dandelion hair afluff. “Do you do takeaway?”

 

Shaun looked slightly surprised. “Er… sure? Do you, um, want me to doggy-bag that for you?”

 

Jihoon fought not to growl as the waiter’s hand came near his plate. “Not this,” he said metedly. “But we’re going to need another of everything on the table, then five portions of the fish and pork to take away. We’re… in one of the self-catering bungalows up east, and we’re all too lazy to cook. I…”

 

He broke off as a slight tremble rocked the table and made the ice in his class dance and clink. “What’s that?”

 

Shaun, in the midst of scribbling, didn’t even look up. “Volcanic activity, likely we get small tremors sometimes. Nothing to worry about. Okay, so five extra pork, five extra fish, I’ll ask for takeaway containers for those, and… five litres of the juice? And another order all around. Would, um… would you mind if I split the bills and brought the takeaway one now?”

 

“Sure,” Jihoon said, and watched Jisoo blush again as the waiter cleaned up his plate with a wink. The food was as fast to arrive as the first time, and the takeaways came in two coolers emblazoned with the bar’s name. Jihoon finished, groaned and wandered out with the coolers, waiting on Joshua to pay the bill. When the other arrived, he watched him tuck the slip into one pocket. “Expenses?” he asked with a slight trace of concern. “Was it that expensive? I know I ate a lot, I can repay you…”

 

Jisoo took one cooler from him, but didn’t look at him. “He slipped me his number,” he finally mumbled. “Man, if I wasn’t on a mission…”

 

Jihoon laughed out loud, shaking his head.

 

It took them less than five minutes to meet up with Mingyu and Hansol in a small, paved plaza under another umbrella, this time with a view of the black sand beaches mere inches away from them. The younger two were carrying bags of snacks as well, and wasted no time in stuffing the ice cream and other sweets into the cooler with the juice. Mingyu took a moment to sneak the coolers back to the carrier, but afterwards the four sat there eating ice cream, accompanied by the rumble of the waves.

 

“It’s a very quiet place,” Mingyu explained sotto voce between licks of his ice cream. “It’s not as touristy as some of the larger resort areas, but they do get some. The woman I spoke to says nothing really happens here, that the last upset they had was months ago when two drunken tourists wandered around at three in the morning, trying to sing La Marsellaise. Just touristy shops with the usual native crafts and so on.”

 

Hansol nodded. “They get a lot of artists here who think they’re going to be the next Gauguin,” he explained. “I saw a crafts shop that’s doing a roaring trade in paint supplies and candid portraits. Nothing out of the ordinary though, nothing that even registers on any kind of Gifted scale. If there’s a shady organization here, it’s the shop down the street selling umbrellas.”

 

Jihoon groaned at the pun. “ _Hyung_?”

 

“Nothing in any of the surface scanning I’m permitted,” Jisoo said. “Aside from that blip earlier…”

 

“We felt that!” Mingyu enthused. “What happened?”

 

“Ah… I was just shocked at how delicious the food was,” Jisoo lied.

 

Jihoon, snorting, was just about to expose him when he felt the earth shaking again, this time more fiercely.

 

“Guys!” Seokmin contacted them. “That was a big one, at least five-pointer, but some distance away. What’s going on down there? My connection to the fort just failed too!”

 

Jihoon couldn’t respond as he stared at the beach, the way the water started to pull back. It pulled back further and further as the mild-seeming earthquake continued. In the distance, on the horizon, he saw the wave start to pick up and he knew, he _knew_ what was coming.

 

_Tsunami._


	5. S01E05

Seungcheol frowned as the control room screen in front of him trembled, but ignored it in favour of watching Chan perform his electronic magic. Aside from a number of habits more suited to teenagers than SHIELD operatives, he also knew his way around computers; the times that he wasn’t working out, going to noraebang, dancing or spending too much money on manhwa, he was spending it on too many computer parts, and chatting to his friends the world over. Seungcheol had attempted to understand, but his limit was programming his home TV to record his favourite shows.

 

It was almost a pleasure, watching him finagle his way out of the labyrinthine security precautions to link up with the carrier, and they soon had Seokmin with them, video-conferenced in on one screen whilst the others displayed data transfer and analysis.

 

“So, the cardstock is strange,” Seokmin said right off the bat. “Most of the stuff is commercial, you can trace it by the chemicals, but not this, if what your scanner is telling me is true. I’m picking up wildly divergent plant matter in the spectral analysis, and the dye itself is natural as well – it’s rare to see such a pure crimson red in natural dyes. Whoever made it was a real artist, not just a master calligrapher. If it was the same person…”

 

Seungcheol, attention called by a muted, flashing alarm on one side, looked up to the overhead display monitors. The resident team were milling around Captain Roberts, and he wandered over.

 

“…odd,” he heard as he wandered closer. “Our instruments didn’t pick up any activity for the last week, not even a tremor, and the volcano is so silent it’s practically sleeping. The ward structure is definitely holding.”

 

“Captain?” Seungcheol enquired politely. “Is something the matter?”

 

Captain Roberts looked over his shoulder at him. “We’re picking up some unusual seismic activity,” he reported. “Not much, and the facility is heavily protected against such, but still enough to pick up on monitors. Still, protocol demands that we lock down, so I’m having the Vault emptied and resealed.” He indicated a screen with a jut of his chin: the wardens from earlier, wrestling what looks like a basalt door into place as the rest of his team and the guard watched, then that self-same wardens did something to the rock that made the screen turn back.

 

“Another attack, perhaps, we don’t know,” the Captain said. “Better safe than sorry.”

 

Seungcheol tilted his head. As much as he wanted to protest, he couldn’t tell the man how to run his facility, and if the thieves had gotten in before nothing would stop them again; a closed system would make it much more difficult for them.

 

“Activate Quake protocols,” the Captain whispered to the operator over whose shoulder he loomed.

 

It felt like a series of doors slamming shut, that was the only way Seungcheol could describe it. Six hollow thuds beneath his feet, evenly spaced but oddly located. Seconds after the last one did, the lights in the room dimmed and Seokmin’s face started fuzzing on the screen. He spared a glance for Chan’s cursing as he tried to hack a clear enough connection. “Quake protocols?” he asked softly of the Captain. “Is there danger?”

 

“It’s a counter-measure we developed against the outcome of the Kree Temple disaster,” the man explained. “This facility is planted deep in the ground, but that would be no protection against someone that can generate earthquakes. So, the lowest levels of this facility was turned into an ark of sorts, with an adamantine-encased basalt cube suspended magnetically in a vast space, which should stop force propagation to a large extend. If all else fails, the wards will kick in and it’ll be transported directly into the heart of the volcano.” Captain Roberts slashed him a glance. “That’s why your people had to come back first. The space is totally sealed now.”

 

Seungcheol’s brow crinkled. “You placed the facility on a war footing?” he asked. “Just what else are you _keeping_ down there?”

 

Captain Roberts smiled at him, but his eyes’ expression was grim. Seconds later, as another earthquake struck, it tossed them all to the side in the upheaval. Seungcheol fell hard on his shoulder, had to crawl to his feet and almost fell over again. Outside in the corridor, over the tinkling of things crashing, he heard boots, but if was the voice in his mind that concerned him most.

 

 _‘Cheol! Cheol, it’s a tsunami, and it’s heading straight for the islands!’_ Jisoo reported telepathically. _Hurry, the crest is already starting to form!_

In the control room, alarms started blaring, and a pile-up happened at the entrance as everyone tried to get in at once. The large wardens, being native Maohis, had shoulders his people didn’t have. Junhui, looking irritated, stepped down and around, bringing himself and Wonwoo straight through the teak-covered wall.

 

 _‘Send Mingyu,’_ he instructed Jisoo mentally even as he motioned the others over. “Captain, we’ll see what we can do, see if you can organise some kind of evacuation.”

 

Seconds later, plucked through a dimension he still didn’t understand, he landed on the beach on a crouch, hissing at the hot sand beneath him and looking around wildly for his people. The incoming wave was still distant, but inexorable. _Think, Cheol, think_ , he castigated himself. None of his people were really on the anti-natural disaster level. They needed a water specialist, or a way to collapse the wave before it could fully form. They needed… they needed…

 

At his side, Chan caught Mingyu as he collapsed, pressing fingers to his throat. “Thready,” he said quickly. “He must have expended a lot of power.”

 

Wonwoo took over, checking Mingyu’s eyelids with worry. “The fort activated extra wards, there wasn’t time to tell. Junhui-hyung had problems as well, bringing us through the wall.”

 

“My fault,” Seungcheol gritted out as he looked at the approaching wave. “The Captain didn’t see fit to apprise me of the rest of the war footing preparations, I should have pressed him more. I wonder if a spread of rockets would work, precisely detonated.”

 

“We don’t have rockets,” Seokmin said over his in-ear. “No incendiaries of any type permitted close to a Level Seven facility. All we have is bullets.”

 

Seungcheol cursed and stood, already wrestling off his shirt. “Can you guess at how high the wave will be?” he said. “It looks very high for just a five-point on the scale. I…”

 

“Hyung,” Jihoon interrupted, at the same time as Jisoo said “Is that the _waiter?_ ” When Seungcheol looked, all he saw was a very slim, very pretty man with tousled blonde hair idle down the beach some distance away. Moments later, as they stared, a dark-haired man joined him from one of the shops on the small boardwalk, and together they wandered down to the water. Above them, thunderstorms started to caulk and boil in the sky, casting it an unhealthy green-and-purple hue.

 

“Look!” Hansol shouted, pointing up. “There’s someone in the sky!”

 

There _was_ ; right at the forefront of the clouds there was a small form zipping through the sky through no technological means he could see, and when he hit the sea it echoed like thunder. There was some conversation, distant enough that he couldn’t overhear. He started forward, and ran smack into a barrier he couldn’t see. Cursing again, he looked left and right, and spotted a slight young man walking closer to them. His features were Asian as well, Chinese from what he could tell, and he had a guilty-looking, hesitant expression on his face.

 

“I’m sorry,” he said when he was close enough to be heard. “Please don’t interfere. And…” He winced as Chan charged the barrier and bounced back, a grimace growing as Junhui attempted to walk through it. “No, that won’t work. Please. Just stand still and we’ll deal with it.” He jerked his chin to the distant trio, one of whom appeared to be cartwheeling on the _sea_.

 

Mingyu, already weakened, coughed as he pushed Wonwoo aside, and seconds later there was a flash as he too rebounded off it. It clearly cost the fey-looking young man to keep them inside, he was sweating already.

 

Seungcheol motioned to his people to desist. “Who are you?” he demanded. “And who are they, and what are you doing?” In the distance, the one that came from the sky rose into it again, and the two distant men watched him.

 

“Preventing a disaster,” the man said in soft, accented French.

 

Seungcheol turned to stand. The figure in the sky flew rapidly, and as he went circles started growing around him, ones that spun wildly. By the time he got to the wave, he was so distant he was just a flying speck of light. For a moment the world rocked, the air turned taut. He heard the boom as the spark struck the wave and a bolt of energy raced over the horizon, flashing green as thunderbolts followed him.

 

The thigh-thick bars of energy struck up and down the hideous wave. It faltered, leant up and collapsed in on itself, splashing harmlessly down. Regular noise returned, not the awful crashing thunder of seconds ago, but his group was so silent it seemed extra-quiet around them.

 

“Was that… was that Thor?” Chan breathed beatifically.

 

“I am so, so sorry,” the young man said as he stepped away. He leant down to place something on the ground, flickered a glance across their group and promptly vanished. So too did the two down the beach. All that remained was the cry of confused seagulls and a small square of red cardstock, marked by four golden stars in a cruciform pattern, with the name of the group spelled out in heavy lettering.


	6. S01E06

“What the hell are we dealing with?” Jihoon asked as they tramped up the carrier’s entryway, scooting around the vehicles parked there. “Barriers? Thunder?”

 

“It was Thor!” Chan said enthusiastically. “He’s the god of thunder, right? Wow, I had no idea we’d be meeting him, that was kind of badass.” Idly, as if Mingyu wasn’t pure muscle, he shrugged him over to the other shoulder and threaded the vehicular maze as well.

 

Seungcheol pinched his eyes shut and took a deep breath. “Whether it was or not isn’t important right now. Chan, get Mingyu to medical and make sure to put the suppressor on so that he doesn’t accidentally phase in his sleep and end up in the volcano. The rest of you, up into the ops area. Hopefully Seokmin managed to…”

 

He paused as he trotted up the stairs. The little lounge area was brightly decorated, with food set out on every surface and Seokmin in the midst of it, tapping at a tablet with a frown on his face. “It wasn’t Thor,” he said without looking up. “I’ve confirmed with home base, they don’t know of his or any other Asgard presence on the planet at the moment. Eat something, please.”

 

“Seokkie,” Jihoon groaned as he stepped up and around Seungcheol to hug Seokmin’s face. “Hyung loves you. Is there any of that…”

 

Seokmin pointed to a table off to the side, one groaning particularly hard under a stack of food.

 

Jihoon, not to be outdone, went to fall on it, mumbling happily as he peeled back the cover on what looked like a mound of reheated pork.

 

Seungcheol hesitated, but the tension in his jaw softened a little. He watched his agents flop down wherever they could, grabbing up plates of food, before he turned to watch Seokmin. It was crazy, but seeing the man’s face made it feel like coming home. “I guess we can have our briefing here,” he murmured, and went to it. “Now. We’re clear that nothing more got stolen out of the Vault, right? And these people actually helped with the tsunami? But we have no information on them?”

 

Seokmin nodded, moving his legs aside for Wonwoo to sit more comfortably. “The wardens checked as soon as the Vault was restored to its normal location. Nothing more has been taken from it, no more little cards. What input they had of the surrounding area suggested that there seemed to be no logical explanation for the earthquake, nor why the tsunami rose so quickly.”

 

Jisoo, barely into his share of the breadfruit chips, tilted his head. “It just seems strange that there would be four Gifted on a place like this, masquerading as normal,” he said softly.

 

“Yeah,” Jihoon said, mouth half-full. “Tell him about the waiter.”

 

Jisoo shot him a glare, but tilted sideways. “We met the blonde one at the shop where we bought all this,” he admitted. “He said his name was Shaun, though I doubt that, he looked as Korean as the rest of us. He, um, gave me his number.”

 

Jun snorted expressively.

 

Hansol and Chan looked at each other, then whistled at that. “Hyung,” Hansol said evenly. “Only you would get hit on in the middle of a freaking _mission_ by the baddies. Or, well, goodies.”

 

“Or Mingyu,” Seokmin added. “Or Wonwoo. I can look the number up, but I don’t hold out much hope that it’d lead somewhere.”

 

“Jun,” Seungcheol said. “The man that had us in the end, he looked Chinese as well, or was I mistaken?”

 

Jun shook his head as he poured a healthy measure of the juice. “Chinese,” he judged. “I could hear it in his accent. He’ll be on the Register.”

 

“The register?” Wonwoo asked quietly. “If they’re new, they might not be…”

 

Seungcheol shook his head. “The People’s Republic keeps a separate register,” he explained. “And they’re paranoid about putting every single Gifted on there, just in case they can be of use to the state.”

 

“In China, if you are Gifted, you belong to the state,” Jun said shortly. “He’ll be on it, if he’s a runaway or not. Especially if he’s as strong as displayed in keeping all of us cooped ”

 

“Dude,” Hansol muttered. “That’s terrible.”

 

Jun shrugged wordlessly; Seungcheol spoke up to spare him the pain of old memories. “He was about 180-185 cents, but thin. Under sixty kilos, I would judge. Younger than me, but older than Chan. Perhaps Jihoon’s age or thereabouts. Chan, can you see if you can borrow a copy of that register without the Chinese knowing? They usually have stats and the like on it.” He paused. “Without bringing foreign governmental wrath down on us, please.”

 

Chan gave him a wounded look. “That was once! Of course I can do it, hyung. I’ll have to get home first, the connection here is terrible.”

 

Seungcheol took a deep breath. “We’ll liaise with what police there is on the island as well, see if any of them know the four. I know we didn’t get good looks of the one that went into the sea and the dark-haired one, but at least for the others. Jisoo, Jihoon, Hansol, see about getting quarters in some of the bungalows around here tonight. It’s clear that they didn’t plan on damage, but they are still thieves. I don’t know any thieves that’d willingly walk into a SHIELD carrier out of the goodness of their hearts. Let’s not make it difficult for them to talk to us if they want.”

 

The three nodded to him. “Chan, Wonwoo, we’ll drop you off on the other side of the island in Papeete; hopefully the connection there’d be faster, we can’t afford to wait until we’re home. We’re working on marginal support this far out, and intelligence is always the first objective of any scenario. Seok-ah, we’ll look in on Mingyu in a little bit, but if there’s a chance you can finish that analysis on the paper tonight, I’d appreciate it.”

 

After Seokmin’s nod, Chan cleared his throat. “I could maybe snoop through the databases the police maintain here as well? If they’ve been on the island they might have left some electronic traces…”

 

“Hm, rather not right away,” Seungcheol said. “Before our visit to the Fort tomorrow, I’ll talk to the local authorities as well, see if they assist willingly. Always better to have local goodwill behind us. We have to be careful and do your best to fit in as inoffensively as possible. If we don’t get anything in a week, we’ll leave for the mainland and see about expanding our search. Jun, you’ll be with me at the fort tomorrow. For the moment… just enjoy the meal, everyone.”

 

Silence fell as everyone set to eating. Mingyu, joining halfway through as he woke up, almost ate enough to out-do Jihoon; between the nine of them the tables were polished right down to the dishes, and Seungcheol left as they were still chasing down the last of the crumbs. Making for his bunk, a solo one by virtue of his status, he sank down on it and groaned, stretching slowly until his spine popped. Setting his alarm, he closed his eyes with determination and went under for a nap.

 

Five hours, feeling vastly more awake, he made a turn past the medbay – now empty- and then the small science enclosure, squeezing into the tiny space beside a hefty scanner. Off in the corner he could hear the slight whir of something else, though he had no idea what it was, and a quick squint that way didn’t help either.

 

Seokmin, bent over it, didn’t look up as he approached, but smiled. “Sleep well?” he muttered, fiddling with the microscope part of the scanner.

 

“Not a dream in sight,” he muttered. “Picked up anything yet?”

 

Another few moments, then a mumble from Seokmin as he straightened, blinking owlishly for a second. “You know,” he said acidly. “I could have made a fortune in the cosmetic field. Instead I have to go practically blind at a square of cardstock that’s still laughing at me. I could have been _rich._ ”

 

Seungcheol’s mouth curved into a grin. “You’d be bored within five days flat,” he said. “You weren’t made to cater to that world, Seokkie. You start getting jittery when you don’t have a puzzle to look at.” Looking around and spotting no one, he carefully lifted a hand to pet Seokmin’s head, fondness welling up in his heart as he traced fingertips down the curve of his cheekbone, then let his hand fall again. “Come on. Amaze me with your brain, then you should go and nap too. I can watch them for a while.”

 

Seokmin’s expression mellowed, shared a hint of pleasure before it became business-calm again. “I’m still running it through the chromatograph, but so far I’ve identified that the paper is mainly mulberry, which is a common ingredient in handmade paper. The rest of it is likely from a slurry of recycled paper. So far there are three ingredients identified in the colour: madder, cinnabar and _Draceana_ resins. At least one of them must be an artist with some connections.”

 

Seungcheol tilted his head. “Why?”

 

Seokmin sighed and pulled off his nitrile gloves. “The cinnabar has an uneven particle grind. That suggests hand-grinding the crystals, which is dangerous if not handled properly. It’s the ore you most often use to refine mercury from. Extremely toxic.” He tossed the gloves away. “In ancient Roman times, they had condemned prisoners and slaves to work it. I think the nearest large-scale source is in Guizhou province in China. Perhaps we can ask around the shops here if they know someone that hand-grinds pigments? It’s a fairly large artist’s collective here after all. It might be a lead.”

 

“Brilliant,” Seungcheol muttered. “I’ll have the others go scouting through the art supply stores as well. If you’ll get me the full readout later on, I’ll go and dispatch them so long.”

 

“Oh… here,” Seokmin said, reaching to offer him a bag with tiny, cut-up fragments of the cardstock. “Samples.”

 

Smiling once again, Seungcheol offered a lazy wave, took the samples and made himself scarce. Only a few leads, but at least something they could work with. “Keep up the good work!” he called over his shoulder.


	7. S01E07

Hansol idled along the waterfront, ambling without much idea of where he was going. Over a year ago, when Seungcheol-hyung had recruited him to the team, there had been training, but as his first nerves straightened out he realised that people were often far more accepting of an agent that wore cargo shorts and flip-flops than the undress uniform back in his back. Casual… casual worked.

 

Casual worked when he didn’t have a goal in mind, at least. So far he had booked a place in a local bungalow and had been to two art supply stores in the small community, and _nothing_. It was as if the people had disappeared with as much facility as he could when he turned invisible. Reaching up to adjust the baseball cap on his head, he briefly envied the local ladies their umbrellas – the late afternoon sun was certainly something to be reckoned with. Irritated with the feel of sweat down his back, he turned abruptly right and made for the closest store.

 

It enfolded him with coolness and abrupt twilight. For the moment it was so dark after said sun that he had to take his glasses off, eyes blinking furiously to adjust. Everywhere around him, flowers seemed to bloom with unusual verve; the shop smelled green and wet like a florist shop should, but even a cursory glance let him know it wasn’t a usual one. The buckets near the front carried local flowers, then roses and lilies and other popular flowers, a profusion that shocked his senses, but slowly towards the back rarer flowers prevailed: orchids, tulips, some he didn’t even recognise.

 

Caught off to one side, like a little dell cupped in a green giant’s hand, was a small café section. Just a few chairs and tables, none occupied for the moment. The décor looked like something his sister might call ‘weathered’, old reclaimed wood and painted metal. Each table had mismatched cutlery and dishes set out, with a small menu in each and a tinkling of soothing, restful music. Classical, not something he normally listened to, but the gentle guitar reminded him of Joshua-hyung, and it meshed unexpectedly well with the roaring of the waves.

 

To the left a long counter, laden with what looked like Arts and Crafts supplies. A few scattered pictures coloured in by children, a row of tiny statues in the windows, along with a profusion of brushes in mismatched jars. The serenity of the place shocked him and drew him in further, made him wander towards the orchids with their funny frilled leaves and bold colours.

 

“Which one is your favourite?”

 

His head whipped around at the sound of the light voice, finding a young man standing there with earth-stained hands and a dirty gardening apron covering his clothes. Hansol felt strange recognising the hands as delicate even under the dirt, and he felt oddly obliged to blush, as if he had been caught snooping. “They’re okay,” he said. “I like the more common flowers. Buttercups, sunflowers, cherry blossoms.” He paused. “Those funny flowers that look like spears, and the ones that smell like honey.”

 

The young man smiled, showing beautifully straight, pearly white teeth. “Are they for a specific arrangement?”

 

Hansol blinked. His thoughts were slow, feeling like taffy, like the sun had burnt all quickness out of him. “No arrangement, sorry. The sun got too hot and I came in here for a breather. I… it’s very beautiful. It feels soothing.”

 

The young man’s smile shrank, but grew warmer, as if he had heard something truly pleasing. “Have a seat?” he offered. “You can sit for a bit and drink something if you want.” He apologised as he pushed past Hansol, and went to hold out a chair for him. “I’ll bring you some cool water before you decide.”

 

For a moment Hansol wondered if he had somehow stepped through into a secret garden, but he went numbly and sat, and only realised how tired he had been when he settled in. He waited aimlessly, humming along with the guitar, until the young man put a coaster down in front of him, then a tall glass and a perspiring jug of water. It had ice-cubes inside, he saw, little custom ones with bits of fruit and flowers frozen into the squares. The water, when he poured and tasted, was faintly wild but delicious, such a shock to his sun-soaked system that he blinked and sat up straight.

 

“Wow,” he got out with deep appreciation.

 

The young man dimpled at him. “Like it?”

 

Hansol took another sip. “I love it,” he said afterwards. “I’m not sure what’s in here but it’s delicious.”

 

Again that fey, secret smile. “This and that,” the young man said. “I make my iced tea from it, but it’s a hundred percent organic. You won’t get sick from it. Sit and relax. If you want to order something later on, just call and let me know.”

 

He had wandered off to the entrance of the sitting area before Hansol’s brain caught up. “Do you have any sweets?” he found himself asking. “I’m new here and I have a few questions, but I wouldn’t like to waste your time, and I could do with something sweet.” He paused. “Sorry. I’m… Vernon. Hi. Hello.”

 

The young man paused and nodded, disappearing around the bend. Several minutes later he came with a small plate and a cake fork, putting down the biggest piece of lemon meringue pie Hansol had ever seen in front of him. “On the house. I’ve got time… as you can see, the evacuation didn’t exactly do my clientele any good.” He paused, looking at Hansol stare at the pie. “You looked like someone that likes sweet-sour stuff, but I can bring you something else if you want?”

 

Hansol shook his head and sampled it, repressing the desire to cry from its perfection. “It was kind of frightening, so I don’t blame them.”

 

“What questions did you want to ask?”

 

“Ah, my mom is an artist.” It wasn’t quite a lie, she was fond of sketching, but not really much beyond the stick-figure stage. “I’ve been walking around trying to get ideas on what I could bring her back as a souvenir, and I thought an art set or something… but I’m not an artist myself, so I’m overwhelmed.”

 

The young man gave him another dimpled smile. “Shopping for an art set in a painter’s village is guaranteed to be overwhelming. There are quite a few, but they’re imported, of course… were you looking for something from Tahiti? It’s such a magical place.”

 

Feeling an odd shiver pass for no reason he could identify, Hansol nodded. “Something local, but not a painting or a sketch, she can do those herself. Maybe there’s a place here that… sells artisan pigments or something? I don’t want to get her something she can literally go to a store and buy.”

 

“I know a person, I think,” the young man said. “I’ll give you his number later on, but I can’t guarantee that he will see you. He doesn’t deal well with strangers. I’ll write down the address though. How’s the pie?”

 

Two, three more sips of the water later, Hansol realised that he had somehow polished off the piece of pie. It had been like driving a well-travelled route, you didn’t always remember how you got there, just that you did. The shop was making his brain sleep between the mysterious proprietor and the cool, soothing smell of greenery. “I don’t think it touched the sides,” he said wryly as he scooped up the rest of the crumbs. “I think I could eat five more.”

 

The young man smiled at him, propped one excellent cheekbone up against his delicate hand. “I’ll fetch you another piece in a minute,” he promised. “Tell me a bit more about you though? What brings such a cute guy to Tahiti, barring all the paintings of, well, nude ladies?”

 

“Not the portraits of the nude ladies at least,” Hansol said with a snort. He opened his mouth to tell the young man about the mission they were on and caught himself just in time. Frowning, he reached up to cup the back of his neck, feeling the heat radiate from his skin even in the cool of the shop. Another sip of water, then two, before he rallied. “I’m just a normal guy?” Deep in his belly, heat prickled, roiling smooth and slow like honey.

 

The young man was laughing at him now, silent but squinty-eyed with mirth. “I’m sure that’s not the case.” His lips, half-hidden beneath the hand propping up his chin, were curved and soft and very full-looking.

 

“I like those little flowers that grow very low, like a ground cover?” Hansol babbled, feeling spellbound by those lips. “I don’t know what they’re called, but they smell faintly sweet and you get them in a million colours and…” Breaking off, his hands clenched before he leant over the table towards the young man, mind drugged. He could smell it off him now, the faintly sweet scent of alyssums and all good things, and his eyelashes were so long he understood his sister’s constant whining about them. “I’m sorry, I…”

 

The young man sighed and took his hand away, tilting his head slightly. “I’m the one that’s sorry,” he murmured seconds before their lips touched.

 

Full, heated, impossibly warm even through the tang of lemon meringue and cool water in his mouth. The young man’s lips fascinated him, from the way the plush flesh felt against his, to the candied sweetness on his tongue. His mind surrendered to the heat that kindled in his belly and went away, and through it all the kiss that lasted and lasted like lazy late-summer days. He passed out like that, black hazing over him finally, until he fell headlong into unconsciousness.

 

Sighing, the young man caught him as he collapsed across the table, taking a moment to pat the nape of his neck, then his back, making him as comfortable as possible before he pulled a phone out of his pocket. Flipping it open, he dialled, eyes fixed in the distance. “Hyung?” he said at the answer on the other side. “It’s Seungkwan, we have a little bit of a problem…”


	8. S01E08

Chan mumbled his thanks to the taxi driver as he climbed out, followed by silent Wonwoo. They had been dropped off at the airport to make things look at least slightly legit, and there had followed a cranky discussion on whether exploiting resort specials for personal gain was, well, a crime. It _was_. He didn’t care, but it wasn’t like the hotel lost out. This is how they lured people, and the InterContinental’s prices were scandalous to start off with. Grabbing his duffel and laptop case, he wandered into the hotel’s dim ambiance in his hyung’s shadow and resolved to be honest enough to at least pay for room service.

 

Five minutes later, ensconced in his panoramic suite, he settled down to test the purportedly free wifi. It was free enough, he quickly got around the restrictions and masked his traffic to look as if it came from one of the superstars staying in the suites above them. Wonwoo entered his room from the adjoining one as he worked on the encryption that stood between him, the free wifi and the hotel’s actual backbone. There was a soft, thick shirring noise, and seconds later Wonwoo’s body dragged a chair up next to him.

 

“Hello, Iggy,” he said without looking. For all that the shaman disdained technological advancement, he somehow got a kick out of watching Chan’s work on the laptop. “I’m almost… ah! There we go.” The layer of protection parted and he slipped into the backbone, taking a moment to wriggle his fingers.

 

“Senor Chan,” the spirit-shaman in Wonwoo answered with a powerful Spanish accent. “You are like the fox in the hen-coops again, yes?”

 

Chan highly, _highly_ doubted Iggy’s claims that he was from a pure Castilian bloodline and was amused by the accent, but he had seen what happened to people that doubted Iggy in any way. “Yeah! See, the thing is, my laptop might have enough juice to crack the protection, but there’s simply not enough speed in a single uplink, so I’mgoing to build a little network and have them do it for me instead. There are several hundred guests here at the hotel, right? Most of them have upscale phones, but they never use it for anything beyond watching YouTube or playing Candy Crush. I can borrow all that extra power, tie them into a net and start scooping out at the underwater cabling that runs here.”

 

Iggy hooked Wonwoo’s chin over his shoulder to watch. “This is thrilling, like watching the hunt.”

 

Chan smiled and worked at his network, building it step by step. It took time, enough for Iggy to grow bored and make for the patio to get gossip from the pigeons. Finally, hours later, he looked up to find the man surrounded by a virtual choir of chirping voices, along with what looked like a tiny turtle on his one knee. “Iggy?” he questioned.

 

Wonwoo turned to look at him. “It’s me again.”

 

Chan’s smile faltered a little. “Ah, okay. Are they telling you anything important?”

 

Wonwoo looked back to the pigeons, tilted his head at them and frowned slightly. “Where their nests are, who the interlopers in their territory is, where the best place to eat is, that kind of thing. Nothing that would really help the investigation.” With a tongue-click, all the pigeons flew off and he reached to put the turtle down in the impeccable garden close by. “What about your side?”

 

Chan turned to reveal his laptop screen. It displayed a simple grid of people: head shots, little bits of text. “I got the register. I stored an offline copy just in case. Tell Iggy I said sorry, most of the boring bits was me covering my tracks, their protections have gotten better recently. These are all the candidates that match the physical paramers Hyung stated. I didn’t get a good look at the guy yesterday, so I’m wondering…”

 

“That one,” Wonwoo said, pointing a finger at a young man in the top right corner of the display. “I’m practically sure, though we can run it by Seungcheol-hyung.”

 

Chan nodded, tapped at the keyboard to zoom in on that candidate and sent the text for translation. “Xu Minghao,” he read slowly. “Born in Anshan, started displaying powers at an early age. I…this is a rough translation but it says here he’s capable of manipulation of forces? Forcefields, bolts of energy, so on… there’s a huge manhunt out for him in China. Powerful.” He paused. “He looks so unhappy. Look at his eyes in the picture.”

 

Wonwoo nodded. “They all look unhappy,” he agreed. “I guess what Jun-hyung said was correct. After all, _he_ ran away for a reason.”

 

“Ah… well.” Chan bit his bottom lip. “I was in there and looked around, so… ah…”

 

“Channie,” Wonwoo said with a huge sigh. “What did you do?”

 

“Not much!” Chan rushed to ensure him. “But Jun-hyung is with us now, right? So I modified his profile a little and just made it so that he’s not so hunted as well.”

 

“A little?”

 

“Okay, a lot. But friends do nice things for friends, right?”

 

Wonwoo shook his head and reached to pat him on the shoulder. “You’re a good kid, Chan. Now that you have a picture, did you manage to find any other electronic traces of Xu Minghao? Any other details?”

 

Chan sighed and sank down on his chair. “Nothing really, not in the last year. Not here in Papeete at least, and the surveillance back where we landed near Fort Bragg was so shoddy that I wouldn’t be able to find a guy if he stood right in front of my nose. If he landed here in the last few months, he did so on another name. Nothing in local passport control. I did download a list of work visas, in case he had a job here. I didn’t find him, but I did find someone else though! Jisoo-hyung said the blonde waiter’s name was Shaun, right?”

 

Wonwoo nodded. “I think so, yes.”

 

Chan quickly pulled up another record. “Shaun de la Foret entered the islands roughly eight months ago. He’s registered as a British citizen, and he applied for a work visa about five months ago when his long-stay visitor’s visa ran out. He got it, and he’s employed in Tautira. The address I got leads to a marina in the area, so I think he might live on a house boat?”

 

Wonwoo’s hand clapped down on Chan’s shoulder. “Well done! Can you wrap all of that up, along with what details you got on the two of them, and send it back to the carrier? It’s not much…”

 

A figure flashed into being closer to them in the room, appearing from nowhere. Wonwoo, who had had his pistol out and trained before the man fully appeared, rolled his eyes and offered up a very sharp curse in what sounded a little like Spanish. Chan, slower to react, only got his pistol trained seconds later.

 

Mingyu slowly held up his hands as he faced down the two, eyes growing. “Whoa guys,” he muttered. “I’m on the side of light, I promise. We’ve got a problem.”

 

Wonwoo let his pistol sink, but muttered something else before he sighed. “Next time,” he said. “Next time let us _know_. What’s the problem?”

 

“About ten minutes ago, Jisoo-hyung lost contact with Hansol,” Mingyu reported, sinking down on the massive bed. “Whoa, this is nice… Channie, is this your doing? Hyung wants a room like this as well. Do you have a Coke somewhere?”

 

“Focus, puppy,” Wonwoo snapped as Chan secured his pistol and went to fetch a Coke from the minibar. “What about Hansol?”

 

Mingyu snapped the can open and took a sip, shuddering as the cold hit him. “Jisoo-hyung says it’s as if he just disappeared off his radar, like he was in a deep sleep or something. He and Jihoon immediately went to ask questions, but no one has come forward to say they’ve seen him so far. Seokmin-hyung says his cell and his bio-tracer have been disabled as well, so everyone’s at a loss as to where he is. Seungcheol-hyung is so mad he’s practically biting holes in the side of the carrier. He wanted me to check up on you two and bring you back if anything happens.”

 

“I got the search worked out and the information sent back to the carrier,” Chan said. “But so far the only danger we’ve been in is pigeon-shit from all the pigeons trying to chat up Hyung about their pimp cribs.”

 

Mingyu blinked and burst out laughing, curling back on the bed and narrowly avoiding spilling his Coke.

 

Wonwoo rolled his eyes and wandered out to the patio, clearly done with the both of them.


	9. S01E09

“I can’t believe you drugged him,” Jeonghan said, looking down at the young man slumbering on the bed. “Honey, we need to talk about your seduction techniques. This is not how you get a cute guy in bed. At least he doesn’t snore?”

 

There came a boisterous laugh from a guy sitting on the window seat, looking over to them before biting into his apple again. “You’re like a black widow,” he said with relish. “Or is that Mata Hari? Or are they the same thing? You’re our honeypot, Kwannie.”

 

Seungkwan, sitting on a small wooden stool on the side of the bed, sunk his fingers further into his hair and groaned loudly. “I panicked, ok? He looked exactly like that guy Minghao-hyung described and was standing there and I knew he was going to ask me questions and I’m not allowed to lie! I have to get Errol to lie for me!” He jerked his head up to glare at the guy in the window seat. “I’m not a black widow! He’s not dead! He’s just… deeply asleep. Jeonghan-hyung, tell him!”

 

Jeonghan sank down on the bed to feel the unconscious guy’s pulse. “Seungkwan-ah,” he murmured. “I don’t know what kind of claim to fame it is that you have to get your neighbour’s kid to lie for you. He’s alive, but his people are scouring the island for him. This is going to get nasty, especially if they send that telepath of theirs out to verify answers. Especially if he’s strong enough to tell truth from lie.” He paused. “Did he see the Sliver?”

 

Looking faintly guilty, Seungkwan shook his head. “No,” he muttered, reaching up to touch something beneath his shirt. “Nor the Amulet. I have them on a long chain. I… Soonyoung-hyung, can you take your feet off my window seat please? It’s disgusting!”

 

Soonyoung rolled his eyes and savaged the core of the apple with his teeth, but obediently swung his feet down. “Says the guy that literally kisses people asleep instead of awake, Reverse Sleeping Beauty.”

 

Seungkwan turned his head away, biting down hard on his lower lip to stop it from trembling.

 

“Minghao-ah, come away from there,” Jeonghan ordered as he stood, dropping the man’s hand on the soothing yellow and grey duvet. “That’s his private altar, ok?”

 

Minghao, hand hovering over a bunch of yellow candles tied together with a rope, blinked and nodded, backing away. “Sorry,” he apologised to their young magic-user. “I no touch. Why do you not just take the man back? It was accident. You can say it was allergic reaction or he bump his head or something, who will know? Not him.”

 

Seungkwan turned to look questioningly at Jeonghan. “Will that work?”

 

“I can hit him over the head for you, no problem,” Soonyoung got in from the side. “Left, right, or on the back?”

 

Seungkwan bridled. “Seriously? Are you still pissy because some foreigner bought your pork and ate it instead of you? Do you want more pie? Why are you being so mean, hyung?”

 

Jeonghan said nothing, just pinched the bridge of his nose with despair.

 

Soonyoung glowered like a thundercloud. “I don’t see why we’re bothering with them! We got the Amulet, it’s safe now, so why don’t we just get out and back towards civilization? Did you have any other visions? Are we going to be trapped on Tahiti forever? Do what Minghao says and leave him somewhere, and let’s just get away before those blue guys arrive. That’s what you saw, right? Did that change somehow?”

 

Seungkwan, aghast, stared at his hyung. “I can’t… I can’t…”

 

“Soonyoung-ah!” Jeonghan’s voice cracked like a whip. “Stop behaving like a hungry, grumpy tiger and deal, okay? Fucking apologise!”

 

Soonyoung drew in breath, took a second look at Seungkwan’s pinched expression and exhaled slowly. Standing, he went to wrap his arms around him, hands gentle. “Sorry,” he said softly. “I’m being a beast because I’m afraid too. Come on. No, I’m sorry, okay? Don’t cry. I know it was scary and you were trying to protect us.”

 

Meeting Minghao’s gaze in the sudden, teary silence, Jeonghan took a deep breath. “I’ll take him back to that guy I passed my number to,” he decided. “Minghao, you can come with me; if there’s a problem you can get us out, right? Then we can rendezvous with the two of you before we get off the island.” He paused. “Seungkwan-ah, are you _sure_ the aliens are coming?”

 

Minghao nodded. “I can get us out, if we have spell like last time.”

 

Seungkwan sniffled and pushed away from Soonyoung’s waist. “Yes,” he said bluntly. “They’re still coming. But they won’t win instantaneously, like with the Amulet.”

 

“Okay. Just in case, pack a long-term bag and go to our secondary meeting spot. Soonyoung, you know what to do and where the accounts are, right? You’re responsible for getting him off this island.” Jeonghan sighed tiredly. “You two have to stand together.”

 

“I will, hyung,” Soonyoung muttered.

 

Jeonghan smiled at him. Kwon Soonyoung might be brash and noisy, with a sharp sense of humour sometimes, but it hid a very soft heart and he knew he loved Seungkwan like a little brother. Breaking off, he made to the bed as Seungkwan went to kneel before his ritual space. Five minutes later, with a small square of cardboard tucked into the young man’s pocket to make him lighter and another one with Minghao, they left, taking a meandering route down to the beach.

 

Minghao scouted for them, eventually nodding to a small square just off one of the churches, empty now as people started losing the light and heading home. Making the unconscious young man comfortable in one of the chairs, he sat down and relaxed the protections around his mind a little, focusing on his features. It didn’t take long; he heard the sound of footsteps before he spotted the cute guy he had jokingly passed his number to, trailed by the tall man that had seemed to be in charge down on the beach.

 

For a moment he just let himself enjoy looking at them. It had been so long since he had travelled with Seungkwan that he hadn’t seen other Korean faces in ages, and the contrast of these two did it for him, from the one’s fine-boned perfection to the leader’s strong jaw and impeccably hard body. Clearing his throat, he locked up his mind again, feeling the telepath whisper along its edges, and stood to nod to them.

 

“Shaun de la Foret?” the leader asked in deep, meted tones only slightly accented with anger.

 

Jeonghan was impressed. Barely a name and six hours, and he already had details. Life on the island usually travelled much slower. “It’s as good a name as any other,” he murmured, feeling Minghao’s forcefield shift gently to cup him safely in its embrace. “I regret meeting like this, or that you had to get involved in this, but he was not harmed.” Carefully, moving slowly and holding his hands up, he stepped away in a circle from the young man, moving until the two reached his unconscious body.

 

The pretty one – he had never gotten his name – knelt down to examine the unconscious young man. Nose, neck, pulse, before a quick but gentle all-over. “He’s not hurt that I can tell,” he said. “Just deeply asleep, Commander. Normal breathing.”

 

“What did you do to him?” the Commander asked suspiciously. “What drugs did you give him?”

 

Jeonghan tilted his head. “A mild soporific at best,” he said. “And a sleep spell. One of my junior associates made a mistake and panicked, Commander. He’ll wake up feeling none the worse for it. You have my apology. Now, if there’s nothing further…” He made to leave, nodding as urbanely as he could.

 

The Commander frowned. “Wait,” he ordered, and sighed when Jeonghan didn’t. “Please… wait a bit.”

 

“Please, wait,” the pretty one added.

 

Sighing, Jeonghan turned at the edge of the small square and tilted his head.

 

“Look,” the Commander added. “It’s clear you’re not a normal thief. Normal thieves would just have left him in a hole somewhere until he woke up and got going. Not to mention that normal thieves would just have let the tsunami hit to cover their escape. It’s clear this is an unusual situation, and so far you’ve not harmed anyone, which is pretty… fantastic in this line of work. I don’t like feeling like I’m tiptoeing around the edges of this, and I’d like some clarity and the items back.”

 

Jeonghan felt Minghao’s invisible, delicate hold stiffen around him, but kept as calm as he could. “I’m sorry,” he said. “You’re not getting the Amulet back. The Sliver… that wasn’t us.” He grimaced. “We tried putting it back, but it came with on its own. We tried throwing it away in the fort, but it still came with. It’s more persistent than a trained bloodhound.” He stiffened as they moved closer, giving a step back. “That’s far enough.”

 

The Commander held up his hands and slowly sat down on the low wall around the little square.

 

“You’re not bad people,” the telepath said softly. “I would have felt it on the beach. Not just from you, because you’re shielding hard, I can tell, but your people. There was no… no… oily feeling. Nor from the young man up on the roof that’s keeping you safe. Listen and let us help, okay?”

 

Jeonghan arched his eyebrows as Minghao moved, dropping down next to him for safety, fingers already coiling around their ticket out of here. “You reap what you sow,” he said softly.

 

“Hyung,” Minghao whispered, clearly uncomfortable. “We leave?”

 

Listening to a whisper from the pretty one, the Commander stood again. “We can help you,” he insisted. “And your associates, like Xu Minghao-ssi there. We have before.” Tilting his head off to the side, he nodded to a window. “Jun?”

 

Jeonghan watched, half-fascinated and half-frightened, as another tall young man stepped through the intervening wall as if it wasn’t there. Chiselled features, an easy catlike grace, and dark eyes that settled on Minghao, not him. He felt Minghao jerk forward an inch or two, but he remained at his side.

 

“They will not harm you,” the man said in soft, almost slurred Mandarin. “As they have not harmed me. Please, listen.”

 

Feeling tension bob in his throat, Jeonghan nodded despite feeling confused and suspicious. “Five minutes,” he got out.

 

“Five minutes,” the Commander agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. So the plot is moving forward slowly. This is somewhere just after the Kree City thing in Agents of SHIELD, but will be going its own direction.
> 



	10. S01E10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

>   1. And finally Seventeen is back together again! 
> 


Seated around the small square like a pack of nervous cats didn’t suit Seungcheol’s tastes as well, but he did it. The young Chinese man with the blonde looked like he was on the verge of bolting, despite looking at Jun as if he was some kind of miracle. His leader didn’t seem too eager either, but he gentled his young colleague a little, murmured until they both found a seat close by and sat down.

 

 _There is something odd about them, Cheol. I don’t think they’re our enemies,_ Jisoo sent gently over the link he maintained between them. _I can’t actively scan but they’re worried about something, and I sense zero malicious intent. The Chinese’s mind is practically stuck in a loop of fear and relief._

 

Seungcheol didn’t reply verbally. Instead, sitting down, he waited until Jun came to their side to crouch down next to him. “Perhaps we could start with why you stole the artefacts?” he prompted. “Putting aside the fact that you hinted one is following you around like a little puppy. How did you do it?”

 

“The how I won’t tell you,” the blonde guy said. “But the Amulet was dangerous and…” He broke off, clicking his tongue with irritation. “Of course you knew it was dangerous, but this sounds like some kind of fantasy that involves blue people and world destruction, it doesn’t help if you’ve not seen it….”

 

Seungcheol blinked, back straightening a little. “The Kree?” he asked, confused. “Tall, blue, possessing advanced technology?”

 

That shut the blonde up, and he didn’t need to be psychic to sense his shock. “Yes,” he breathed. “Is that their name?”

 

Seungcheol nodded. “My organization sees them as a threat to the security of Earth, but we’ve never come into contact with any of them personally and the one my organization did meet we got off Earth as quickly as possible. He was quite a warrior though, formidably trained and geared. I’m lucky we’re off their radar.”

 

“Oh honey,” the blonde said, sighing as he leant up to rub at his eyes. “No. You’re so wrong. Not that they’re not dangerous, because they are, but that we’re off their radar.”

 

Seungcheol frowned uneasily, ignoring the pet name. “What do you mean?”

 

“About a year ago an... associate of mine had a vision of a few ships full of blue people landing here,” the blonde explained tiredly. “In it, a fight broke out and they gained access to your Fort and the things in it. Somehow that fight made the volcano blow up, but not before they got access to the Amulet. They used it to go back over and over until there was no more Earth, just a frontier planet to be used in their expansion. We never stood a chance.”

 

Seungcheol’s spine stiffened. There didn’t seem to be a lie in the blonde’s tone of voice, more the kind of weariness that warriors got when they faced impossible odds but still pressed ahead.

 

“A year ago?” Jisoo spoke up at his side. “Ten months, I think, perhaps a week or so more?”

 

Seungcheol blinked, mind spinning as he tried to understand the direction Jisoo’s mind had jumped. It didn’t take him long; there was one event that overshadowed everything else in his memory. “The city’s destruction,” he whispered. “Shit.”

 

The blonde frowned at him. “What?”

 

“Let’s just say I’m a little more convinced to believe you,” Seungcheol said. “So you came here and what, stole the artefact to make sure it was gone when they got here?”

 

The blonde nodded hesitantly.

 

“And next perhaps you were going to San Juan, take in the local scenery there?” Seungcheol asked.

 

The blonde looked at the Chinese man at his side, then frowned. “How did you know?” His gaze lashed to Jisoo. “Are you reading our minds? Stop it! Minghao-ah…”

 

“No,” Seungcheol said. “We know because you’re too late. The city there has already been found and destroyed. Flooded, in fact.”

 

“You’re wrong,” someone said from the side, and all heads turned to watch Seungkwan stand hesitantly on a third side of their little square, nervously fiddling with his hands with Soonyoung hovering over him protectively. He cleared his throat, looked nervously at Jeonghan and inhaled. “If the temple had been totally destroyed then I wouldn’t still be having the dreams, sir. Uh, Mister Commander. Something was missed or… I don’t know. But I’m still having them. There’s something still there.”

 

Jeonghan shook his head. “Seungkwan-ah, we talked about this. Why are you here? I said I’d fix it.”

 

Soonyoung placed his hand on Seungkwan’s shoulder, meeting Jeonghan’s eyes over his shoulder. “He had another one not long after you left,” he explained softly.

 

Seungcheol, confused, shook his head. “If it’s not destroyed, that is valuable intelligence, thank you,” he murmured. “Digging through a million tonnes of rock isn’t pleasant, but I will take your… your suggestion, young sir.” He nodded to Seungkwan, standing, before he looked at Jeonghan again. “If you would be so kind as to hand over the Amulet and the Sliver, I’ll see what I can do with the reports.”

 

Jisoo, who had been quietly supporting Hansol, reached out to touch Seungcheol’s arm. “He can’t,” the telepath murmured. “Because something will happen if he does, right?” His gaze went to Jeonghan. “Tell us the whole truth,” he urged. “Please. It’s always better.”

 

Jeonghan gave a long, slow sigh. “Are you ever going to stop snooping?” he asked wearily.

 

“I’m not snooping,” Joshua defended. “But you’re so worried that you’re practically shouting it. I’d have to be deaf not to hear.”

 

Jeonghan grimaced and slowly crossed the square with Minghao at his back, the latter looking uncomfortably at Jun as they passed by him. “Seungkwan’s a prescient, you might say,” he said as he finally reached his side, protectively wrapping an arm around him. “But the visions take a steep toll. Without the Amulet to regulate and tone them down, it wreaks havoc on him. Think of it like a limiter stopping an engine from overheating and having a meltdown. I’m sorry, but we can’t give it back. If you try to take it now, we’ll disappear fast and far, and you won’t see us again.”

 

“I’m sorry for your guy,” Seungkwan mumbled after that. “I panicked, I really did. I’m very, very sorry.”

 

Seungcheol grimaced. He couldn’t let them leave with the artefacts, but if what they said was the truth he didn’t want to be party to a young Gifted’s destruction either. The moment drew out until it twanged, before he finally sighed. “I’ll need some method of verifying the truth,” he finally said grumpily, rubbing one hand over his face. “Both on the subject of Hansol and Seungkwan’s continued dependence on the Amulet. Will you allow my healer to examine them?”

 

“In a neutral location?” Jeonghan shot back. “Not on your plane.”

 

Seungcheol’s jaw clenched. “Yes,” he agreed. “Here and now… Seok-ah, have you been listening?”

 

‘I have,’ Seokmin said over his in-ear. ‘I’m collecting my bag and some scanning equipment. Mingyu will bring me.’

 

Nodding, Seungcheol sat down, eyes locked on Jeonghan. The blonde was a pain in the ass, but he cared about his people, enough not to want to see them entrapped. He could respect an adversary like that.

 

The stalemate grew for long minutes until Mingyu popped up with Seokmin at his side. Nodding, their healer came over to Hansol’s side and hunkered down next to him, reaching out a hand to rest it on his forehead. His gaze became distant, searching almost, before he blinked and looked at Seungkwan. “What sedative did you use?” he asked, sounding curious. “It works very differently from other compounds I’ve observed in action before.”

 

“Um… it has a chamomile base and a few other things,” Seungkwan muttered guiltily. “I, um, it’s all organic, I promise. He’s not being harmed.”

 

“I know,” Seokmin said with an easy smile. “I can tell that it’s not harming him. His liver and kidneys are not having any problems flushing the chemicals; it’s one of the gentlest sedatives I’ve seen, but very quick-acting.” He looked to Seungcheol. “He’s not being harmed,” he promised. “He’ll come out of it on his own in an hour or so.” Straightening, he dusted himself off and made for Seungkwan’s side, stopping as Soonyoung bristled. “I’m a healer,” he said calmly. “If you don’t trust me, I’m right here for you to harm. Let me just… have a look, okay?”

 

More minutes, this time tenser, until Soonyoung nodded after a look at Jeonghan.

 

Seokmin stepped forward, resting his hand on Seungkwan and set to concentrating. This time it took a long time, long moments during which Seokmin’s expression changed mercurially, but when he finally stepped back his expression was grave. “There is significant degeneration of certain parts of his essential neural architecture,” he confirmed. “It’s only recently stopped, from what I can tell of the regeneration taking place, but his system is still under enormous strain. Whether that’s the amulet or not I don’t know, but I’m willing to believe it until further evidence presents itself. ”

 

Seungcheol felt like groaning at the Catch-22.

 

“Let us come with you,” Jeonghan said out of the blue. “You clearly know what we don’t, and we know stuff you should. It makes sense for us to work together, especially if your doctor… if your doctor can treat Seungkwan-ah. This isn’t about bureaucracy, it’s literally about saving this planet. Surely there’s some precedent for working together.”

 

“Yes,” Seungcheol said slowly, thinking about what led to the Kree City disaster. “But not always positive. Mingyu…”

 

“Back to the carrier, boss?” Mingyu asked cheerily.

 

Seungcheol nodded. “Just me. Jun, watch them. I’ll let you know when to retreat.”


	11. S01E11

It took less than an hour for Seungcheol’s superiors to understand his point, given how bluntly he put it, but in the end they understood and cleared the request. No one liked the idea of a possible Kree invasion. He pulled everyone back in, right down to the people in Papeete, and stood at the bottom of the ramp watching his new guests carefully walk up it. Jeonghan came first, with Xu Minghao trailing towards the left, with the unnamed fourth at the right. He didn’t miss that they formed a protective triangle around Boo Seungkwan, who was struggling up the ramp with a huge box in his arms, trying to pull a large bag at the same time.

 

Chan, bless him, bounded down. “Hey, let me help you,” he said cheerfully to Seungkwan, taking the box from him with no effort. “Whoa, are these all plants? They look so happy! This way, this way… oh, give me your bag as well, okay?” With everything in hand, he charged up the staircase to the lounge, weaving agilely through the two Jeeps parked on the ramp. “Come on, this way! You’re guests, so you get the nice bunks, okay?”

 

Blinking, Seungkwan nodded hesitantly and went with.

 

“I see you have some of them too,” Jeonghan said wryly at his side. “Gods protect us all from puppies.”

 

Seungcheol unbent a little at Jisoo’s soft laughter. “I have two,” he murmured, beckoning everyone inside. “Where do you think my grey hair comes from?”

 

Jisoo snorted as he wandered past. “No grey hair yet.” His attitude gentled as he approached Minghao; before long he had the young Chinese man chivvied up the staircase, coaxing him along like one would a shy child.

 

“I have one of them too,” Seungcheol said softly to Jeonghan, nodding to Minghao’s disappearing back. “Come on. I’ll show you your bunk.”

 

* * *

 

Seungkwan settled into the bunk area that had been assigned to him. It wasn’t a full bedroom, being more like one of those very posh first class cabins than an actual room, but the bed in it was comfortable and there was plenty of space for his favourite plants. Nibbling his lower lip, he hung up his handmade dreamcatcher, smoothing the feathers and crystals on it, before he carefully placed his smallest plants in place around the head of his bunk, making sure they were comfortable and secured. Seokmin had argued that they bring his entire home pharmacy, claiming interest in the plants’ properties, for which he would forever feel grateful to the older man. Choosing between them had been like choosing between children.

 

A knock against the edge of the small bunk space drew his attention and he looked up, only to blush as he saw the guy that he had knocked out earlier. Now, with his cap off and sleep still in his eyes he looked even younger, and he felt guilty all over again. Standing hesitantly, he opened his mouth to apologise, only for an anxious smile to interrupt him.

 

“Hey… um,” Hansol muttered, uncertain how to proceed. “Look, I should probably apologise for kissing you without your permission, and for scaring you like that. Your boss, he explained when I woke up.”

 

Seungkwan dropped his gaze. “I’m the one that should apologise,” he muttered. “For giving you a sedative in your water. I was scared you’d drag me off to jail, and I… I panicked? I’m really sorry too.”

 

Hansol tilted his head, looking at the transformation in the small bunk space. “It’s already starting to look like your shop,” he murmured. “That was a nice shop. I’m sorry you have to leave it behind.”

 

Struggling to put on a brave face, Seungkwan managed a smile that was more like a grimace. “My neighbours are taking it over,” he got out. “But yeah, I’m kind of sad about it.” He darted a look up. “I’m Seungkwan,” he said, hands tight at his sides. “Boo Seungkwan. I’m originally from Jeju.”

 

Hansol turned his head to look at the young man, lips curling slightly into a smile. “I’m Chwe Hansol. I was born in New York, but my parents moved when I was five. I’m a Hongdae boy. Look, if you need anything, call Chan or myself, okay? We’ve been seconded to look after you guys, and the other guy… Kwon Soonyoung-ssi? He’s already terrorising Chan. Let’s make things pleasant whilst we’re working together.”

 

Something in Seungkwan unkinked and he managed a genuine smile. “I’ll do that,” he promised.

 

“For now, do you want to come to dinner? At the rate Jihoon-hyung and Soonyoung-ssi are going through it, there’s not going to be much left.”

 

“Oh no,” Seungkwan moaned. “Come on, let’s run before there’s really nothing left.”

 

* * *

 

Junhui stared at the younger man he had been detailed to watch over. Xu Minghao was a real product of the Chinese schools: trained in acrobatics and martial arts, powerful, and afraid of his shadow. He crept as if he expected a reprimand every second of the day. Silent too, as silent as he had been when he ran away and became a thief. From the constant glances the young man darted through the opening of his bunk to the distant table, there to find his boss Jeonghan and the loud Soonyoung, he felt protective as well.

 

“They will still be there when you wake up,” he said quietly in Mandarin, keeping it low. “There is an exercise area down in the hold that I will show you. The doctor here, Lee Seokmin, will want to give you a medical assessment but you have the right to refuse as you are a visitor. If you have any malfunction in your powers, or requirements, please let him know as well.” He hunkered down to make his tall frame appear a little less overbearing. “For instance, we have someone here that requires constant dietary monitoring. He…”

 

“Are you happy here, ge?”

 

Jun blinked at the question that came out of left field. “I am,” he said cautiously.

 

“It’s just… I know who you are,” Minghao said as he sunk down on the bunk with perfect posture. “They showed us in training. Wen Junhui, China’s Great Disappointment. You were everyone’s hero in the school I was in. We all wanted to run away.”

 

Jun hunkered in silence for a moment or two, trying to pick out the tangled thread in that unhappy declaration. “I would rather have been a thief a thousand times over than assassinate more people,” he finally said. “The people that I robbed could afford it, not that that makes theft morally or ethically right, but at least it wasn’t constant death and bombs. When Seungcheol-ge offered me a spot on his team, I was apprehensive at first as well, but we protect people. Normal people. That’s all I ever wanted.”

 

Minghao nodded slowly. “That’s all I want too, ge,” he muttered, staring out at his team with his heart in his eyes. “A chance to protect my family. I don’t have a real one left, so… but they are nice people too.”

 

Jun glanced over his shoulder at Jeonghan and Soonyoung, then Seungkwan as the shy boy was dragged closer by Chan and Hansol. “Then you should do it,” he said, oddly touched. “Until you can’t anymore. If they are worthy?”

 

“More worthy than others I have found.”

 

Straightening with a grin – the first one he had really felt in ages – Jun tilted his head that way. “Come on. Dinner is served.”

 

* * *

 

It was noisy and crowded at dinner with thirteen people trying to squeeze into the space. Seungcheol tried to shake the feeling that he had suddenly gotten eleven kids and a co-parent in the form of Jeonghan, but that feeling stuck with him, especially when the livelier members of the two groups started integrating and mixing well with each other. Even Jihoon was playing nice, although he seemed to be in some kind of competition with Soonyoung as to who could eat the most -- one Soonyoung was going to lose, from the way Jihoon stared at the extra rice on the table.

 

He was so busy thinking that he didn’t notice Minghao sitting down next to him until there was a cute little noise, half-sneeze and half clearing of the throat. “Xu Minghao-ssi?” he questioned. “Bless you?”

 

That earned him a tiny, almost vulnerable smile. “Ge,” the young man greeted respectfully. “Wen Junhui-ge tells me that you have two pilots here, himself and Lee Seokmin-ge, but when we fly tomorrow can I sit in as well? It has been long time. I want to refresh my skills.” He looked sideways to Jeonghan, who nodded supportively at him. “My ge says that you might not allow contractors in the cockpit but that I should ask you.”

 

It was a bit of a muddle to Seungcheol. What had started off slow and diffident became faster, a slur of Korean that was oddly accented. Cautiously, because the kid had a point, he nodded. “You can sit co-pilot,” he muttered. “Junhui will sit in the engineer’s seat and keep an eye on things. I hope you understand why it has to be under supervision.”

 

Above the noise of what sounded like an argument on the merits of girl groups starting up on the other side of the table, he barely heard the ‘Thank you, ge!’ but he saw the smile and the bobbing bow, and that was enough for him. Jeonghan smiled at him too, not the upset and angry look of earlier, but in a way that made him hope Cruciform as a whole might have been a good idea.


	12. S01E12

The night had gone well enough, with most of it spent getting to flight height and the only problem being the vastly more complicated shower roster for the two small bathrooms. Soonyoung, feeling in a vast need of coffee, stumbled to the lounge trying to press his hair flat as he tried not to scratch his ass in front of strange people. It had been the first time he had gotten eight hours of sleep in months, thanks to whatever magic Seungkwanie had added to his leftover pineapple juice from last night, not to mention the truly ginormous amount of food he ate. Contrary to what the short, fiery midget had claimed, he _had_ won, and that had felt sweet as well.

 

Now, after a quick turn to fill a travel cup with his morning coffee, he ventured down the staircase to the business end of the plane, giving the medbay and science station a skip, padding into the small exercise area instead. It was virtually empty, except for the youngest, Chan, staring sulkily at a stack of weights higher than his ankles.

 

“Chan my man,” Soonyoung got out in his raspy morning voice. “It’s too early to look that upset. Did you lose the lottery?” He made himself at home on the weight bench, twisting until his spine popped and he yawned.

 

Chan stared at him, stared at the weights and sulked. “They’re not heavy enough,” he finally muttered. “I wanna work out too and the weights are never heavy enough. My baby sister could pick those up.”

 

Soonyoung cast a wary eye at the pile of weights. “Is your baby sister Do Bong-Soon by any chance? I couldn’t pick those up.”

 

“Ha ha, very funny, hyung,” Chan pouted.

 

Soonyoung smirked and reached to pat him on the shoulder – gingerly, in case the kid flipped him under and over or something. “There’s probably a weight allowance or something and those are for the norms like the rest of us? Why don’t you go back there to where the vehicles are parked, get a good grip and start lifting one of them instead? Y’know, just the front or something. The safe bit.”

 

He watched Chan’s eyes start to sparkle. “Just for that, hyung, I will get rid of a parking ticket for you. You just tell me when and watch it disappear!”

 

Soonyoung grinned. About to negotiate for a few more, he paused as Seokmin’s voice called everyone to the ops table. Looking at Chan he shrugged, bolted the rest of his coffee and meandered his way there. It was tight and cramped and he felt sleepy, so he hooked his chin over a shoulder and stared at the map projected in the air.

 

“San Juan,” the Commander announced crisply, letting them have a good look at it before he waved the top layer away. “According to the intel logged by Team One, this is the way they followed into the City, as well as the map they had uncovered. The red areas are where the majority of the collapses happened, which has shifted the topographical map of the place somewhat. Seungkwan-ssi, does any of this look familiar to you?”

 

Seungkwan, standing across the table with adorably tousled hair, shook his head. “Not a lot,” he muttered regretfully. “In some of the visions I am standing on the edge of the land amidst cannons, watching a fleet of alien ships come out of the clouds. In others, I’m underground and I can smell old stone around me. The room is round and there’s light coming from somewhere, but I can’t see out. All I see is this large upright stone in front of me, covered with markings. I’m… I’m afraid of the stone, but I don’t know why? And then something sounds behind me and I turn and see a blue man that’s taller than me, and he kills me.”

 

Seungcheol grimaced. “I think the place with the cannons is the Castillo San Felipe,” he said, nodding to Seokmin to pull up shots. “Like these? Do they look familiar?”

 

Seungkwan stared at the panoramic shot, then nodded as it panned towards the sea. “There! But… the cannons are a little below me? Like I’m up in the air a little.”

 

“A balcony, perhaps, or really in the air,” Seokmin posited. “An entrance might have opened up underneath it.”

 

“There is something else,” Seungkwan said. “There’s this low note travelling through the corridors, almost like…” He broke off, frowned a little, then hummed. The soft sound drifted in the sudden silence, and he did it again as Seokmin motioned for him to repeat it, obviously recording it. “It’s not like a man or a woman singing, more like a hollow fluting…”

 

Jihoon leant in, eyes narrowing. “It could be the waves against the rock,” he said. “I think I’ve heard that kind of thing before, where the sea had eaten pipes open in the rock and the waves falling in and retreating made it sound almost like a hollow organ playing. Almost like the effect when you hold up a shell to your ear.”

 

“Yes!” Seungkwan beamed. “Yes, a little like that, but actual notes? It sounded like that.”

 

Hansol wiggled a little forward on the chair he straddled. “The coastline is probably like cheese there anyway, especially after the earthquake. It might have opened up new passageways, or closed old ones. Even the flooding might not have held, or only partially.”

 

“I’ll go in and check,” Junhui volunteered. “I’m the only one that can get safely through the rock anyway.”

 

Jeonghan cleared his throat, shooting a glance at the rest of the Cruciform members. “Not… exactly,” he finally stated. “I can too. I’m a mimic.” He pulled a sour face. “I can ape a person’s powers after I touch them. It’s why I could understand that Jisoo-ah was a telepath, I touched his hand when I handed the credit card back to him.”

 

Silence fell as everyone but Cruciform stared at him, some with open mouths.

 

“What?” Seungcheol finally asked. “What, anything?”

 

Jeonghan shrugged uncomfortably. “I’ve never noticed a limit on what exactly,” he explained. “I’m never as powerful as the original user, but the power is the same. For instance, I can’t whistle up a typhoon like Soonyoung-ah, but I’d be able to call up a pretty mean thunderstorm. The only one I can’t mimic so far is Seungkwanie, because his power isn’t physical so much as spiritual.”

 

Seokmin cleared his throat in the silence that grew. “Actually, what is it that Cruciform can do? More or less? That’ll help me with situation analysis and planning. As much as you’re comfortable telling SHIELD in any case.”

 

“I’m a weather controller,” Soonyoung shared, chin bobbing on Mingyu’s lowered shoulder. “Anything from light breezes to major disasters. I could demonstrate, but the plane might not like it. That’s why I go by Hurricane.”

 

“Force projection,” Minghao said quietly. “Force-fields, force projectiles…”

 

“Force lightning?” Hansol asked in a quick, excited voice.

 

“Oh my gosh, he’s Gifted, not a Sith,” Seungkwan got in from the side. “Hao-hyung is literally the softest person ever.” He gave a chipmunk-cheek sigh. “I do a little bit of everything? I’m a magician, or a ritualist, or whatever you want to call it.”

 

“A strong one,” Wonwoo said out of the blue. “Or so Iggy says at least. But young and somewhat untrained, right?”

 

“His mentor died in HYDRA hands,” Jeonghan said quietly. “It’s not really open for discussion, but yes. That’s the four of us at least.”

 

Seungcheol, wondering how these four had gotten away from authorities, just shook his head. “If you can help Junhui search, so much the better. Hansol, you’re our climber, so work with Seokmin and determine which pieces might have held, and which might be totally underwater. Something about the city makes electronics useless, so we’ll be going in blind anyway. Wonwoo, see what the sea-life in the area have to say. If we’re going to go in there and meet Kree, I’m going to need our heavy hitters up front. Jihoon, Soonyoung, Chan, if you see something even twitch wrong down there, hit first and ask questions later.”

 

Chan nodded enthusiastically; Soonyoung looked sideways at Jihoon, then nodded as well.

 

“Jisoo,” Seungcheol continued. “You and Jeonghan will be our communication hubs, telepathy might work down there where electronics don’t. Jeonghan’s the wildcard though, so he might have to move away to assist Junhui in the beginning. Seungkwan, for the moment I want you to stay with Seokmin on the carrier. Mingyu, what are you up to on teleportation by now?”

 

Mingyu smiled. “About a metric ton, hyung. I can pull your butts out if something bad happens, or help clear the way. I’ll form part of the scout and safety team, I guess, with Minghao here?” He reached sideways to fist-bump the quiet Chinese man.

 

Seungcheol nodded. “There were reports of the city being able to control individuals, though I’m not sure whether this was chemically or mentally.”

 

“I can come up with a spell,” Seungkwan volunteered. “It’ll keep you safe from that. I’ll get less backlash if the actions I take are less violent in nature, so that should be perfect. I’m… I’m not really much of a front-line combatant, sorry. The post here with Seokmin-hyung would be best. Ah… I am pretty good with plants though…”

 

“He’s magical with plants,” Hansol interjected. “You should have seen his shop.”

 

Jeonghan snorted. “Just don’t ask him to lie. That’d be a disaster.”

 

Seungkwan, blushing, dimpled. “I could give Minghao-hyung a few extra small things? Just in case.”

 

Seungcheol nodded again. “We’re all set then,” he announced. “Lastly, if you see a giant stone like the one Seungkwan mentioned, mark the location and get away from it. We know less than nothing about what the city might still have in it, after the disaster there HQ is stingy with the data Team One collected. Stay safe. We land in two hours. Use that to make what preparations you may. If you’ve been trained in weapons, report to Jihoon-ah for access to the armoury. Dismissed.”

 

He watched as everyone scattered, some storming the showers and some collecting supplies. It looked like an ant’s nest, but somehow he felt satisfied still.


	13. S01E13

Seungkwan crawled into the small space his plants had been moved into, basking in the wet, fertile smell of their young, growing lives. It was really a squash, but he calmed almost immediately in that calm energy, and breathed out slowly. In front of him, on a small desk made from a crate, he had his cardstock and ink ready. Closing his eyes, he cupped his hands over the space where the Amulet and the Sliver hung concealed, and slowly lowered his mental defences.

 

It was like stepping into a warm stream and sinking only a little, standing on your tiptoes above an abyss of power. It was as much intuition as experience that guided him here, but for the moment it was calm, and he breathed out again, seeing golden flecks part from him into the life-force beneath him. A little life given for a little gained; his plants shored him up with their boundless vibrancy, filled his reserves again.

 

When he opened his eyes he wasn’t in quite the same world. There were colours and nuances to the lab around him, from the foxfire glow of his plants to the steady grey thrumming of the engines to the rich, rainbow-toned flames of people around him. There, in one corner closest to him, the green-honey glow of the healer, Lee Seokmin. Over just a little more, the calm solidity of the commander, Choi Seungcheol, upon which he could build a fortress. Above him, a frenetic flicker of colours as the others moved to stow belongings before landing.

 

He stretched his hand out and bit his lip to blood as a bolt of lightning shot from the abyss beneath him, moving to rest easily in his hand. Not his mentor’s beloved pen, but a feather from a bird he did not know, burning and yet not. It dipped hungrily into the ink and he transferred his hand smoothly, putting pen to cardstock. The words flowed out of him as he spoke to the spirits of all things, entreated them to help. He wrote and wrote, cardstock pile slowly lessening, until he had a host of small charms. The ink shimmered wetly in the rigged sun-lamp, contracting as it dried, until there was only the symbol of their group left in thick miniscule, every single word disappeared into it.

 

He blinked to open his eyes again, felt the Amulet keep him safe as he pulled back from the abyss of prescient knowledge, and stared down at the cardstock. One was a rich, crimson red, so vivid he felt it would smear off like ochre if he touched it. Another, quite a few of them, the soft grey of a dove’s breast feathers. One, somehow green-blue though he had had none of that colour before, smelled of the sea breeze, fresh and revivifying.

 

The healer, Seokmin, was hunkering down on the edge of his space, watching curiously. “I thought you were a botanist because you loved plants,” he said quietly. “But you need them, right? I could feel the energy flow. You have the same link to them as Wonwoo-hyung with animals, but with vastly different outcomes.”

 

Seungkwan smiled. “Yes and no. I love them too, it’s not just need.” He looked up at a feeler from a dwarf bougainvillea impudently kissing the back of his neck with pink blossoms, coaxing it gently away. “Before the Amulet, they were all that anchored me. Plants don’t experience time the same as we do. Now, with the Amulet’s help, I don’t need them as much, but I still have that bond and I still love them.”

 

Seokmin grinned and stood, reaching to help him up. “Fascinating. I’d like to study that interaction one day, if you don’t mind?” He lifted his head to the plants. “If they don’t mind.”

 

Scooping up the cards, Seungkwan grinned. “I’ll ask them.” Meandering out, he found Minghao first, and handed the stack of dove-grey cards over to him. “A few things,” he muttered. “It’ll be the right one when you pick it, hyung.” He hesitated for a moment, then went back in for a hug, closing his eyes to feel the tall, very slim frame warm against him. Being gifted hadn’t made friendships easy, but he loved his quiet hyung with all his heart. “Be careful.”

 

It was off to Chan next, whom he didn’t hug but handed the red scrap of cardstock over to. “If you get in trouble,” he explained. “Out in the front lines. It’ll bring all of you back here, okay?”

 

The second-last person… well, he tracked Hansol down in one of the equipment bays, checking over ropes and other climbing gear. Half-fascinated, he traced the ropes with his fingertips, feeling the cool braided strength in them, and cleared his throat. Hansol didn’t stop, merely gazed in his direction, before he went back to his task of checking… well, whatever those fiddly metal things were. “Here,” Seungkwan mentioned after a moment, tucking the square of blue-grey cardstock into his jacket’s pocket. “Just in case.”

 

Hansol looked at him again, and nodded, but it wasn’t until he turned that he spoke. “Which is my lucky rope?” he asked curiously. “Out of all of these?”

 

“Oh…” Seungkwan glanced around the small, neat space and pointed out a thick coil of yellow. It didn’t speak to him, but it hummed happily underneath his hand, and he grunted as he tugged it to the top of the pile. “This one.”

 

They didn’t share more words, just a quick smile, and he scurried off to find Jeonghan-hyung and Junhui-ssi, presenting them with the last square of red cardstock. “This will keep our minds clear,” he promised solemnly. “If it’s something Jisoo-ssi can’t deal with, like chemicals.” He considered them, then leant forward to hug Jeonghan. “Take care, hyung,” he insisted. “Take a lot of care, there’s going to be a lot of danger down there today and I don’t want to lose you.”

 

Jeonghan smiled and hugged him back; when he stepped back to bow nervously to Junhui-ssi the tall man hugged him as well, and turned to overlook the stowing of more weapons than he thought possible in their pockets. Happy, he went to go and join Seokmin-ssi up in the ops area, nodding to his solemn face over the length of the holo-table. “Teach me?” he asked. “What you may, at least.”

 

* * *

 

Soonyoung scrambled into the combat gear they gave him, slim-fitted stretchy pants in a dark blue and a skin-tight shirt of the same. It felt easy to move in when he slowly sank down into a crouch, then up, then down again. Mumbling, pleased with himself, he straightened and turned to acknowledge the knock on the frame of his bunk, waving the little swishy door open.

 

For a second he faltered. For someone a good ten cents shorter than he was, Lee Jihoon didn’t look like a child. The shirt clung and rippled around him as much as it did Soonyoung, revealing a spare build that was much more muscular than he had thought. In addition to that, gloves of a duller material covered his hands and arms, and in the thick-soled boots he wore he was at least an inch more impressive. “…yes?” he questioned. _Where are all those rice bowls even? Where does he pack it away, in an extra-dimensional stomach?_

 

Jihoon glanced over him with a little wrinkle. “Sorry,” he said, not rude but gruff. “I’ve been using your bunk for weapons storage. If I can just get to the under-mattress containers?”

 

Mystified, Soonyoung nodded and clambered onto the bed, hauling his discarded clothes up with him. He watched Jihoon hunker down and press his thumb to the bio-lock patch on one side before his eyes rounded at the bounty revealed by the drawer that slid open. He hadn’t noticed it earlier and this… _this…_

 

Serried ranks of knives, ranging from small to a machete, some treated not to reflect, some the brilliant rainbow of titanium. Some dull-looking, carefully cradled in shock-foam, seemed to be ceramic. As that tray got lifted out, he goggled even more. Handguns, some batons, and what looked to be several disassembled rifles. “I’ve been sleeping on top of an armoury…” he breathed out, fingertips trailing but not quite touching as his mind recalled Jeonghan scolding Minghao for trying to touch Seungkwan’s little altar.

 

Jihoon smirked up at him. “We have an armoury aboard. That’s where the ammunition and the special weapons are held. These are just some things modified to work with the heat my hands put off at times.”

 

“Whoa.”

 

“You’re not checked out on firearms, so…” Jihoon wrestled the tray back in place, then considered the knives on display. Knives started disappearing here and there about himself as he geared up under Soonyoung’s watchful eye, until he finally closed everything and patted the drawer back in place, locking it.

 

Soonyoung frowned. “You are a pyrokinetic, right?” he muttered. “Why all the other weapons?”

 

Jihoon frowned down at him. “My energy’s not infinite,” he finally admitted grumpily. “When it’s done, I have to refuel or my power starts attacking my body for fuel. So, unless it’s really needed, I tend to save up my energy for last-ditch situations. Come down to the gym when you’re ready, our team is gathering there.”

 

 _Clever_ , Soonyoung’s mind stuttered. _Clever and resourceful and… and…_ He shook his head out of the search for more adjectives and nodded as Lee Jihoon wandered off, though he couldn’t suppress a tiny thread of worry that he had somehow gone from ‘fiery midget’ to a full name in his mind.


	14. S01E14

The carrier hovered above the stretch of rocks the fort sat on – not the one that Team 1 had explored so long ago in search of the entrance, but the one they had identified earlier – and the first contact team jumped gently from the ramp to the broad stone wall around it. It was very early, planned so that few tourists were around, but Jun still had to listen quietly for the fourth cat-like drop. Jeonghan and Jisoo appeared next to him first, dressed in the dark blue stealth outfits the lockers had engorged.

 

Jeonghan, with a cap around his bright blonde hair, looked nervous as he reached to touch a patch of Jun’s neck, virtually the only naked thing about him. Though he could sense nothing through the quiet touch, he saw the other’s shoulders slump, then straighten, before he leant down to put his hand through solid rock. It wasn’t so effortless as his, it seemed, a little slower, but he could do it, and pulled it back seconds later to flash them a quick thumbs-up. Behind him, the quick flash of Jisoo’s smile before he too nodded and that familiar touch crept in the back of his head, settling into a place that wasn’t quite _comfortable_ but certainly not bothersome.

 

He flicked his glance to the last member of their scouting team, though he had less reason to worry about him and more about Jeonghan. Where the latter carried his weapons awkwardly, Minghao was already in the midst of the second check of the utility harness, and he caught him in the midst of stowing away a small packet of cardstock. He got a simple nod before the man moved to cover Jisoo, arguably the most vulnerable of their particular team.

 

‘Move out’, the Commander’s voice came over the comm stuck to the back of his ear, soft as a whisper.

 

Jun looked at his team again, signalled them to move out and leapt down the waist-high wall onto the promenade below. His body melted into the hard shadows cast by the almost full moon as he led the way around to the entrances of the fort. Everything looked strange in the moonlight, from the corner of a vending machine to the sturdy plastic guide rails meant to channel tourists, now put neatly against the wall by the evening clean-up crew. Arriving at one of the few windows large enough, he peeked inside for a moment through a night-scope before he nodded to Jeonghan.

 

The blonde reached out a hand to Jisoo and Minghao each, breathing deeply before he led them through the wall into the building. As a test it worked well, though he looked slightly spooked as Jun came through last; he was shivering and hunkering down. No one spent any time vocally reassuring him, but Jun caught the faintest echo of chat on the telepathic network Jisoo held together, murmuring in explanation. He left them to it, beckoning Minghao forth and pointing to a camera just a little left of them, one of two Chan had earmarked.

 

Minghao left, one hand slipping into the pocket he carried and pulled out a micro-transceiver to stick to the back of the camera. It wasn’t strong enough to reach far, but from the click-clack over his audio that came mere seconds later he understood that their youngest was working his magic, and soon the cameras started dipping in their brackets. It was the sign he had been waiting for, and he straightened to drop over the guard railing from the balcony to the ground level, landing with a neat tap-tap.

 

“Is it done?” Jeonghan’s soft enquiry travelled very loudly in the air, but Jun summoned up a smile as he turned to him.

 

“Chan-ah’s got their cameras on a loop,” Jisoo explained as he prudently used the stairs to circumvent the gap that Jun had jumped.

 

“Arrow, Mimic, take the right side,” Jun ordered, nodding to Jeonghan and Minghao. “You’re with me, Outreach. Two clicks on 217 when you find it.”

 

The group calmly split in two before they started searching the place, each side moving out like a slowly-splashing wave from the lobby into the wings of the building. Jun’s side had the guard station, which they carefully navigated around, but mere minutes later they heard the click-click as the other group signalled, causing them to loop back. They met up again only a few doors down that side, near a door neatly locked and marked as Restricted Basement access in a couple of languages. This time through, Jeonghan didn’t so much as shiver, and they were down a long staircase before too much more time had passed.

 

At the single click on the command channel, Jun carefully placed another of the transceivers tucked on the riser of the staircase. Down they went, trusting in their night-scopes and touch more than anything else, until they finally arrived at a large basement. There were several sections to it, but each neatly maintained and locked, with all but the last containing paraphanelia any working tourist location would have: extra seats, index cards, once a crate full of broken headphones for the guide track.

 

Slightly irritated after a thorough search, Jun motioned for a halt in the last basement, a thick-walled structure loaded with old signs. “No entrance,” he murmured to the others.

 

Minghao, head tilted, frowned uncertainly. “Ge,” he muttered, then recalled mission protocol with a shiver of thin shoulders. “Ghost. Listen. Can you hear that?”

 

It took Jun over a minute to hear what he heard; the air had that thick, dead feel of structures deep underground. Their _breathing_ was louder, and it wasn’t until Minghao beckoned him over and pointed to a second of wall that he heard it clearly. Very faintly, so faintly it might as well not have been there, came the sound of waves booming against the rock of the promontory. Again and again, in a rushing surge, muted by some distance. The crack through which it came was miniscule.

 

“Nice ears,” he muttered as he stood back. “Give me five.”

 

He had never truly thought about how he did what he did, but there was almost nothing he couldn’t slip the atoms of his body through. It felt like entering a grave, walking through the thick wall of the old dungeon, and he trusted in senses he didn’t know how to describe: the feel of the stone he could sense even through his gloves, the pressure differential across his skin, and finally a sense of wetness that crashed brine across his tongue. It had been a long walk down, following that crack, but he emerged in what looked to be an old sea-cave with a long rent across the back that eventually grew into the crack he had followed down.

 

He tilted his head to look up at the walls and roof. They were smooth, carved by high water, but it was the sound of a hollow, fluting melody being played that attracted his attention, and he peeked into a gaping hole on the floor. Far below him, barely seen, was the rushing of water that would likely boil up the pipe at high tide, and it made him wonder how long the sea had been patiently hollowing out this little shell, and how much more time it would take before the fort started having problems.

 

Shaking his head against the fancy, he let the thought that he was safe sit in his head for Jisoo to pick up. Walking back up and into the rock, he brought them down one by one through the strata, until all four of them crouched on the floor of the cave and he could finally signal to everyone to take off their scopes.

 

“It smells bad in here,” Jisoo said the moment he signalled for an end to the silence they needed upstairs. “Dead marine life?”

 

Jun nodded, crouching down easily. “Carried in by high water,” he said softly. “The hole over there. Don’t fall.”

 

Minghao gave a nose-wrinkle and a sniff. “There is enough oxygen to sustain us for a while, I think?”

 

Jisoo tilted his head. “It sounds very close to what Kwannie described, doesn’t it? Is it the waves crashing in the pipe? How much further, do you think, until we reach the city?”

 

“It’s like a rough pipe organ,” Jisoo explained. “Air being forced up it makes a note.”

 

Jun hooked his scope back on his face. “Not far,” he muttered. “Maybe another hundred metres or so, I guess. Come on.”

 

They ventured on into the thick darkness again, travelling endlessly with only Jun’s senses and his touch to guide them through the rock. At the end, a crack that spilled fresh air like bounty as they stepped into a small chasm that led to what looked like worked stone waist-high to it. Though the walls were damp, the air quality was good enough when they crept into their first corner of the Kree city, crouching on the slabbed ground.

 

“Kwannie was right,” Jeonghan said as he took his helmet off to the accompaniment of faint sounds whistling through the corridors in front of them. “It’s really still here.”

 

Jisoo frowned at the gentle glow of the glow-stick Minghao cracked, sticking it behind a rocky outcropping so as not to blind them with immediate light. “It doesn’t look like the flooding held,” he muttered, touching a section of damp stone. “Could it be that the place is rebuilding itself? By all rights it should be totally flooded by now, between the explosives and the earthquake. How advanced _were_ these people?”

 

“That,” Jun said, trying to shake his uneasiness, “is a question for the whole team. Can you provide enough of a beacon for Stride to teleport here?”

 

Jisoo nodded and shuffled forward, looking at the corridor with a fixed glance. Jun hung back, watching; between one moment and the next the group of heavy hitters materialised like dripping honey, and the moment they arrived Mingyu toppled like a tall tree again, face oatmeal in the sudden rippling yellow lights that kicked on in the corridor. A siren started blaring, sounding uncomfortably like an intruder alarm, and almost immediately the sound of heavy footsteps started coming closer.

 

“Oh shit,” Soonyoung summoned up for all of them, and dove to the floor as a tall form turned the end of the corridor.


	15. S01E15

Minghao moved faster than he had ever moved before, dipping his fingers into the pouch of little cards. He didn’t bother picking. Instead, rolling forward through the mass of the team, he slammed it down at their periphery and swiped his fingers across the ‘Cruciform’, throwing up a shield just behind it. It stretched around everyone, touching the floor as little as he could, just to muffle away the edges of their noise and breathing. In front of them, growing like a shield, he could vaguely sense the tingle of Seungkwan’s magic working; his breathing slowed as he reminded himself to trust in his teammate.

 

Jun crept to his side as the tall alien rounded the corner, peering suspiciously into the small, broken corridor. He felt more than saw Jisoo do the same.

 

The alien was blue and tall from what he could see of him, sturdily built and strongly muscular. The suit he had on fit a little slimmer than theirs, but he still moved at an easy lope, holding a long stick in his one hand. There was a large rifle-looking weapon on his back, and several knives arrayed on his belt, plus one sticking out of one big black boot. Though his features were regular and black hair short, he had several claw-marks scratching scars over his face, contorting one eye a little, and pulling the left corner of his mouth up in an ironically happy grimace.

 

 _Teleporting through the city’s defences must have set off some kind of alarm,_ Jisoo shared with them. _He’s in the same state now as he was last time he had to teleport through wards – too much energy used too quickly._

The alien barked something at the ceiling and the strident lights disappeared along with the wailing, atonal noise that served as an alarm. Ignoring it, he came closer and closer, to a spot where Minghao thought he’d have to attack him to keep their position a surprise, but Jun’s hand settled over his as he started to move, and he settled back on his haunches, mouth in a thin line. The alien stopped just before the imaginary line sketched by Seungkwan’s little square of cardstock and breathed in, tilting his head. Seconds later, shaking it, he made his way back around the corner, leaving them alone.

 

The small party inside the force-bubble breathed out slowly. In front of them, the piece of cardstock crumpled, dissolving into ash as the magic inside it faded. Minghao, keeping the barrier around them, turned to see Soonyoung removing a hand off Chan’s mouth, wiping saliva off it with a grimace. Mentally smirking, he scooted to where Jihoon had Mingyu’s head on his lap, staring at his watch as he counted the pulsing of his heart.

 

“He’s okay,” he said shortly afterwards, scooting away as Seungcheol slipped a shirt under his head for a pillow. “His pulse is strong. It was just a shock, I’d speculate. The place clearly has countermeasures.”

 

Minghao stared. The leader of Team Seventeen wasn’t the biggest man he had ever seen, but like Mingyu his body rippled with muscle under the low lights. His skin was very golden in the low light, but there was enough contrast to pick out innumerable scars and blemishes, marks of fights and scuffles over the years. Clearly he had been a fighter even before his invulnerability had kicked in. Along his spine, marching in serried ranks, there were two matching tracks of small circular scars, as if he had had some sort of implanted device removed.

 

Seungcheol sat back on his haunches, unbothered by his partial nudity. “They didn’t waste any time returning,” he muttered. “Jisoo-ah, any idea of how many?”

 

Jisoo bit his lip, closing his eyes. His lips moved as the seconds passed, and finally he gave a slow sigh. “Not… not more than seven, I think,” he said. “It’s hard to get a lock on them, because their minds are so different, but from what I’m getting, they’re a scouting party that came to see why the city’s emergency beacon triggered after so long. They’ve only reclaimed parts of the city so far, I think. Other parts might still be flooded and unusable.”

 

“We might be able to get the rest of the team in quietly if they can swim into one of the flooded sections,” Jeonghan murmured. “Or Mingyu-ah out, at least to safety.”

 

Seungcheol nodded, lips in a thin line. “Minghao-ssi,” he murmured. “Come over here for a second.”

 

Nodding, Minghao scooted over.

 

“Can you work with or against their fields holding the water back?” Seungcheol asked. “Is it a kind of force that you can manipulate?”

 

Minghao chewed on his lip as he considered. “I think so, ge. I would have to try to be sure. The alarms…”

 

Seungcheol nodded and looked at Jeonghan. When the blonde sighed and nodded, he breathed out and looked at the circle of faces. “This is what we do,” he muttered. “Jun, Minghao, Soonyoung, Jisoo – scout team. Find us an area to lie low in close to the vents. Jun, you’ll be able to feel the vents?”

 

Jun nodded once.

 

“Once we get a safe spot our first objective is to find out more information. See if you can find a node for Chan to hack into, or subdue one of the aliens so that we can question him.”

 

“Question him?” Minghao asked softly. “How? We don’t even speak their language, ge.”

 

Silence fell, before Hong Jisoo gave a small, pitiless smile. “That,” he murmured, “won’t be much of a problem.”

 

* * *

 

Soonyoung moved quietly in the wake of the scout team, tip-tilted eyes half-lidded as he tried to trace the currents of fresh air. His powers were curtailed indoors, limited to the crudest of manipulations; there was simply not enough space to call up any significant weather in a room. It irked him to have to rely on the knife he could feel pressing into his back, but it gave him some comfort too, and silently he blessed the guy that lent it to him.

 

Ahead of him, moving like a pair of shadows through the eerily lit corridors deeper into the complex, Jun and Minghao had point, and it was almost unnerving to see how quickly they fell into working together. He would have made a comment if he hadn’t known that it was from the history they both shared, the merciless schools of training they had been put through as kids. His gaze transferred from Minghao’s back to Jun’s, considering him. Tall, very quiet when he moved and with an edge that didn’t so much speak to arrogance as deserved pride.

 

Irritated again – he should have better focus than this – he turned his attention back to keeping an ear out behind them. They scouted down one long corridor, then two, before an odd section of corridor led to a small room. Dust and debris thickly coated what looked like an old sleeping quarters, and he had to step carefully around the ruin of what looked like a metal bed. Jisoo stumbled over it as well, mumbling an apology as Soonyoung held out a hand to steady him.

 

“Here,” Jun whispered, removing his fingerless gloves to put a hand flush on the worked stone wall in a back corner. He leant in to put an ear against it, listened and nodded with a purse of lips. “There’s another sea-cave beyond here. It’s the closest it comes to the inside of the complex.”

 

Soonyoung nodded, reluctantly impressed, and would have spoken if he didn’t see Jisoo droop down against a wall, closing his eyes. “Hey,” he muttered, crossing to the thin man’s side, touching the sides of his neck, then his forehead. His pulse was rapid and clammy, and it took an effort to shake his eyes open against their tired droop. “Hey, are you ok? What’s wrong?”

 

Jisoo swallowed slowly. “Tired,” he mumbled. “Sleepy. I just need to rest for a moment…”

 

Soonyoung blinked. “You can’t rest here,” he whispered tightly. “Come on man, you…”

 

“Outreach?” Junhui asked, leaving the wall to step closer. “Outreach, what’s wrong?”

 

Soonyoung stepped back as the two Chinese crowded the telepath, patting and shaking him. It was only as Minghao’s eyelids drooped as well that he understood what was going on, and he lifted his head to take a big sniff of the air. Dusty and somnolent, yes, but it wasn’t that causing the claustrophobic feeling in the room. “Shit!” he cursed with feeling and held up his hands, wrapping a bubble of pure clean air around them. “Shit, shit, I hadn’t even noticed!”

 

Junhui’s eyes opened wide as the air seemed to lighten, to lift around him. “What is it?” he asked tightly, bracing Jisoo as best he could, moving him down to the ground.

 

“It’s the air,” Soonyoung said softly, reaching to straighten Jisoo and tug Minghao down next to them as well. “The air in here isn’t like ours, it’s got less oxygen and way more nitrogen. There’s a reason people call hypoxia the silent killer, you just pass out and don’t wake up again. Especially for him, has he had any high-altitude training? Shit, the others are in danger as well, probably.”

 

Junhui’s expression paled in the dim light. “If they’re all passed out…”

 

He broke off as the rigid thud-thud of boots marched down the corridor, and they peeked out just in time to see a four-man team march by, carrying the unconscious bodies of their comrades over their shoulders.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Fun fact: according to Wikipedia Kree depend on more nitrogen in the air than humans do. That coupled with the fact that the city has been discovered, bombed, discovered again and is repairing itself... the air is really not suitable to humans, and they should have thought of that before they went in. 
> 



	16. S01E16

Soonyoung’s eyes bulged out as he watched the group of aliens walk past with the team tucked over their shoulders, but he got jerked up short as he tried to follow and Jun yanked him back.

 

“Are you crazy?” Jun hissed as he pulled him back into the room. “What do you think we’re going to do against them with just the three of us?” He pulled the weather controller back over to the depths of the room, spent a moment listening, and glared at him. “We’re already in deep shit! We can’t even communicate with Outreach out of it, and now you want to add us to that total? Think, dude, how did they manage to hit out that many of our front combat people?”

 

Soonyoung’s lips curled back over his teeth in a snarl; as unused as he was to following these people’s orders, ‘Ghost’ was _damn_ lucky he didn’t just knock him out and go anyway. Inhaling, he opened his mouth to blast back, only for Minghao’s soft voice to distract him.

 

“Ge…” the thin man said worriedly. “He’s really not looking good, even with the fresh oxygen he’s been exerting himself the whole time so I don’t know if he needs to go back, or what.”

 

Soonyoung’s mouth snapped shut as he knelt down next to Jisoo, feeling for the thready pulse in his neck. “I can’t enrich the oxygen much more, I’m not that good at that kind of fine manipulation,” he muttered. “Ghost, you said that this is the closest we get to the outside for some time?”

 

Junhui nodded. “And that’s five meters of rock, and sea on the other side. It’s going to take me some time. I need you here to protect them as I go. I don’t know how deep it is, I might have to swim for some time if they're not already there.” He looked down at the unconscious man on the ground, then back to Soonyoung’s tip-tilted eyes. “Can you protect them whilst I go looking for help? Those Kree might start searching the whole base.”

 

“Yeah dude,” Soonyoung muttered. “We’ll protect him. Go and get the rest.”

 

Casting a last glance at the three on the floor, Jun nodded and made for the wall, pushing himself through at all possible speed.

 

\-----------

 

Seungkwan’s fingers kept flittering on the surface in front of him as he watched Seokmin work. The older man had sat him down at the lab table and asked him to ask some of his plants for leaf samples when he caught him fidgeting upstairs in the lounge.

 

“They’ll be fine,” Seokmin said restfully, carefully scraping the down off a leaf that had shivered off a bougainvillea of its own accord. It lay still and lifeless now, but there was no scar on the plant itself. “Schrodinger and Gaius would have gotten into the water by now; it’s probably the rock blocking the communication back home. That’s a lot of stone to think through.”

 

“Hyung, I don’t know,” Seungkwan havered. “I’m feeling twitchy. It’s never good when I feel twitchy.”

 

Seokmin shot him a side-eye, profile beautifully backlit against the light in the lab. “How does that work?” he asked curiously. “In every other case of one of the prophets or precogs we’ve come across, it’s been proven that they’re getting information from a technological source or third party by some means.”

 

Seungkwan snorted helplessly. “I wish,” he muttered, puffing his cheeks up as he cupped them in his hands and leant forward. “I was born like this, and there’s a whole host of drawbacks. It’s as if someone out there said ‘Oh, he might be too powerful, let’s dial him down.”

 

Pausing, fascinated, Seokmin turned to him fully. “Like what?”

 

Seungkwan’s cheeks deflated. “I can’t lie? Everything I say has to be the truth, it’s _so_ inconvenient.”

 

“How so?”

 

“Well, hyung, have you ever considered going shopping with your noona and being asked ‘does this dress make me look fat’ and it does and you have to _answer_? Or arguing with someone and you have to tell the truth no matter what? Last time you guys were looking for us at the shops, I had to get my neighbor’s kid to lie and say I wasn’t there.” Seungkwan’s nose wrinkled. “I can’t lie and say I like someone, no matter how much I might want to, and forget about throwing me to interrogation. People don’t always want to hear the truth, you know?”

 

Seokmin sat down, frowning. “Fascinating. It sounds like a version of the Cassandra complex. I wonder if it’s a psychological limiter for you, or if there’s a real mechanism withholding you from it?” He reached to pat Seungkwan’s closest hand. “What else?”

 

“My magic isn’t without cost either. Not in the energy it takes, but it’s like everything I do creates a ripple that comes back to affect me?” Seungkwan hesitated. “I _can_ attack but if it’s a tossup whether it’s good or bad. I get sick, my energy dwindles for a while… like there is some cosmic accountant out there, you know?”

 

Seokmin’s smile turned slightly skewed. “That’s there even in bioethics,” he said gently, watching the increased tap-tap-tap of fingertips against the table. “Primum non nocere may not strictly be in the Hippocratic Oath, but it’s also important to consider. I wonder, Seungkwan-ah…” He paused, considered, then reached to still the trembling fingertips. “Something’s wrong? You're even more jittery now.”

 

“I don’t know!” Seungkwan burst out, yanking his hand away as he hopped to his feet. “I don’t…”

 

A crash sounded from the loading deck of the plane and Seokmin gestured him to silence immediately. Carefully, quietly he crept to a locked cupboard in the corner, hauling it open to get out something that looked vaguely like a pistol. Checking something, he crept forward again, yanking Seungkwan in behind him as he took aim at the door. “Duck,” he advised him in a whisper, and fired as the door to the small lab slammed open. Once, twice, thrice the bolts of bright blue streaked across the room.

 

Seungkwan, too afraid _not_ to duck, squeaked as a heavy thud came. Peeking around a corner, he saw a tall blue man try to get up before he fell again as the second bolt struck his cheek. The third splashed against some kind of armor, but the second was enough to drop him. “It’s them!” he yelled, panicking. “It’s the guys in the dream, they’re here hyung!” He ducked and covered his head as Seokmin fired again, but the second guy was intelligent enough to take the splash on gauntleted forearms, and seconds later a hole as big as his fist nearly perforated his hyung as the alien fired an energy weapon at them.

 

Seungkwan screamed, holding his hands up to cover his head as magic welled out of him in thick golden waves born aloft by his fear.

 

The smell of growing things increased, turning the air thick and pungent with that green plant scent; Seokmin, frantically trying to re-arm the new ICER as it beeped, cursed that the technology had not been perfected yet. Seconds later, at the sound of harsh alien screams of pain, he blinked, uncurled from behind the lab table and peeked, mouth gaping open.

 

The bougainvillea that had helped earlier, the one that had been a potted pink miniature, had _exploded_ with growth, lashing tendrils and branches and leaves around the two aliens, incapacitating them. They were moaning now, inch-long thorns penetrating their flesh, sturdily holding them at bay in cocoons of woven branches. Ironically, it was blooming as well, a profuse scattering of pink and orange flowers all over as if to say ‘look what I did!’ Gaping, he re-armed the ICER and took aim – the branches shifted _out of the way_ – and ICEd both of them before reaching for a shuddering Seungkwan.

 

Beneath Seungkwan’s shirt a small, leaf-shaped amulet glowed and he swore he could hear the savage giggle of the plants in the room.

 

\-----------------

 

Junhui popped out of the rock into the cold pressure of the flooded sea-cave and had to struggle not to scream: Gaius, with his spirit guide riding him, was waiting for him there in the form of a massive angler-fish. The light drooping from his forehead was more than enough to illuminate the craggy horror behind it, and it was only Hansol’s hand that saved him from slamming his head back against the rock wall from sheer shock.

 

Half his remaining air was lost in the savage curse he gave. It bubbled away in darkness, and he was glad of the mouthpiece Hansol handed him afterwards. Slowly, with his eyes closed, he breathed in and out, refilling his lungs and calming his heart. When he opened his eyes again, the light swam a little closer and he motioned in the foggy water between them, indicating that he’d take the younger through first.

 

One trip turned into two, and finally all three dripping wet forms were in the small room. When he looked up, Soonyoung was crouched protectively at the door with a long, wicked knife in his right hand. Minghao and Hansol were conferring softly as Hansol did something to the diving tank’s intermix, holding a mask over Jisoo’s face. Wonwoo, shrugging the water off him almost as a finicky cat would, straightened and helped him up, going to dig through Hansol’s bag.

 

Soonyoung crept back as Wonwoo shoved an ironically bright twist of rope aside, hauling out a packet of the energy bars buried deep. Grabbing one on the way back he tore it open with his teeth and snarfed half of it before his shoulders relaxed. “Nothing happened,” he said to Jun. “Some excited running outside, but no one came close.”

 

“I stuck a transmitter on the outside rock,” Hansol said over his shoulder. “If he doesn’t wake up, we can call back and hear what Seokmin-hyung says. All was still quiet when we left there. What happened?”

 

Jun took an energy bar as well, feeling tiredness well up in his limbs. “The air in here is bad, according to Soonyoung-ah. It’s a little clearer around him, but we were scouting ahead and they must have ambushed the other party. Stride had passed out again, the place is warded against teleportation it seems. They’ve captured Stonejaw, Mimic, Pycon, Stride and Atlas.”

 

Wonwoo complete the circle of bodies around Jisoo’s unconscious one. “It might be best to sneak closer and rush them, hyung. If they have enough sensors to know someone’s teleporting…”

 

“I can scout,” Hansol volunteered. “Or I can cloak the lot of us if you stay really close to me.”

 

Jun nodded and shuffled closer, considering each for a moment before he laid out his rescue plan. “Right, this is what we do…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   1. Just to clear something up, Seungkwan isn't some kind of plant-bender. They just really, REALLY like him and his amulet. 
> 



	17. S01E17

Soonyoung surfaced from the very long walk in the dark courtesy of Ghost, who had to fall to one knee as he brought them out in the basement of the fort. The lanky Chinese man had been working the hardest of them all; thanks to Outreach strapped over Soonyoung’s back he couldn’t take them the sea route, so they had wandered up through rock for nearly fifteen minutes before they found fresh air. Privately Soonyoung felt freaked the fuck out by the experience, as well as the thought that he’d have to do it again.

 

He shrugged the SHIELD telepath into a more comfortable position over his back and started running up towards the exit they had come through earlier. They had tried one of Seungkwan’s little cards earlier and received nothing for their effort; Minghao-ah had given him a worried look and they had made the call to evacuate and consolidate first, putting the original plan on hold for a moment. Every step given towards the invisible ship made him feel just a little worse, there wasn’t even a response on the mastoid communications they were wearing.

 

It took him a moment to sense the ship; he couldn’t see it but it cause enough air displacement for his senses to notice where it was. Shuffling aboard, he winced as the telepath’s one elbow accidentally banged against a landing strut. He made his way in through the parked cars, wondered at the acrid smell in the air and nearly got his face blasted off as he made the turn into the science section. “Holy fuck!” he screeched, pulling back hastily. “I come in peace, I come in peace!”

 

There was a moment’s silence. Then, carefully, “Soonyoung- _hyung_?” from someone that sounded like Seokmin. “Is that you?”

 

Creeping back slowly, he peeked around the edge of the room to assess the situation, boggling. The place was overgrown by plants that rustled and shifted around two impenetrable cocoons swinging slowly to and fro, from which unintelligent cursing was coming. There was only a slice of room visible, and _that_ had a strange energy weapon stuck through it, pointed in his direction.

 

“Seokmin-ah?” he hesitated, plunking Jisoo down on one of the Hummers’ bonnet. “What the hell happened here? Are you okay?”

 

The energy weapon’s nozzle retracted and he saw one brown eye peek out, so he stepped forward to wave gingerly.

 

“Three of the aliens came to attack us, and I think your friend did something, because I can’t wake him up and the plants aren’t retreating.”

 

Soonyoung cursed internally and took another look at the plants. He had never really understood Seungkwan’s interdependence with them, but this was on a different scale entirely. “Things went badly downstairs too. We misjudged the oxygen content in the city, and a lot of the team was captured. We couldn’t contact you either, so I was deputised to come and look, the others are holing up until my return with some atmospheric support. I think… hold on.”

 

Reaching behind himself for the wicked knife Jihoon had pressed on him, he nicked his thumb carefully and offered it to the plants still rustling in the doorway. It looked nauseating, the way the blood just disappeared as if drunk, but seconds later the branches somehow self-severed themselves, leaving two wrapped-up bundles and a clear path inside.

 

Seokmin was standing in front of Seungkwan, awkwardly wielding the largest alien rifle he had ever seen.

 

“Whoa,” he said, impressed with the mild-mannered, gentle healer. “I’ll trade you? Your guy collapsed in one of the tunnels, we posited that he wasn’t getting enough oxygen and he was already shielding all of us, so there was a lot of exertion too.”

 

Seokmin rested the rifle on a counter and hurried past him, moving immediately to inspect Jisoo. “Green first aid kit!” he called over his shoulder. “Just slide it over.”

 

Soonyoung slid it over before going to look at Seungkwan. His youngest dongsaeng was still out cold, and there was a very disturbing rustle from the plants as he went near him, but things calmed down when he reached to gently comb his hair back and stroke a finger down his nose. “Kwannie,” he said softly, frowning at the chill skin. “Kwannie, come on, wake up, it’s safe. Kwannie…”

 

Another rustle from the plants. Soonyoung looked up at them and bit his lip. “I’ve got him,” he stated more on a hunch than anything else. “Let him wake up, okay?”

 

There was one of those queer moments that stretched out forever, broken only by Seokmin’s fiddling around the telepath, before his dongsaeng took a deep breath and his eyes slammed open. They were viridian-green for a moment before they faded back to his normal brown, and the plants shivered and disappeared as well, returning to their normal forms, leaving only the two tangles around the aliens. Soonyoung bit his lip, uncertain of what happened, but reached down to help Seungkwan sit up.

 

“It’s okay,” he soothed as he saw the hysterical tremble of his lip. “It’s okay, you’re back with us now.”

 

“I was having the vision again,” Seungkwan said with a tiny, trembling voice. “Just me getting killed over and over again in a room with a strange stone. It was like they were telling me they couldn’t see beyond that either. That it’s a certainty.” His fingers tangled together. “I don’t know what to do, _hyung_ …”

 

From outside a soft murmur as Seokmin managed to get Jisoo awake. Inside, Soonyoung wrapped his arms around Kwan, hugging him tight for a moment. “I don’t know either, Kwannie,” he said softly. “But _hyung_ will protect you like always, okay?”

 

Seokmin helped Jisoo reel into the science section, pressing him down on a chair and encouraging him to hold a mask to his face. “Oxygen deprivation,” he diagnosed, sending a small smile Seungkwan’s way. “You brought him back in time.”

 

“Bad headache,” Jisoo muttered loopily into the oxygen mask. “Everything hurts.”

 

“I’ll give you some things to take down there,” Seokmin continued. “At least some rebreathers, the oxygen concentrator we have on board and so on. It should recharge the rebreathers for as long as it takes to rescue the others.”

 

“Who’s captured?” Jisoo asked thickly.

 

“Stonejaw, Mimic, Pycon, Stride and Atlas,” Soonyoung responded. “Most of our heavy hitters. The others are hidden for the moment, but we badly need supplements for Ghost and to find the others.”

 

Seokmin pinched at the bridge of his nose. “Shit. I’m going to have to change the command-codes of the jet. In the end, everything’s tied to Seungcheol- _hyung_ ’s biometrics. What do you need beyond the medicines?

 

Seungkwan shivered, clearly reluctant as he butted in. “I could… I could help too,” he muttered. “But I’d have to be down there.”

 

Soonyoung bit the inside of his cheek. “Are you sure?” he asked softly. “I know it’s a bad situation but if you can’t sense a way past…”

 

Seungkwan shook his head wordlessly and slid off the table, legs unsteady for a moment before he straightened. “We have to help, _hyung_. I want to help.”

 

Nodding tightly, Soonyoung reached to take the alien rifle, slinging it over his shoulder. “Jisoo- _hyung_ , stay here okay? Seokmin-ah, do you have another medkit? Kwannie can take that and as many energy concentrates for the others as we can find, and anything that might help. I’ll also need to get into the armory stash….”

 

Jisoo simply nodded, too loopy to even sit straight, but Seokmin nodded sharply. “Here,” he said, pulling a large white kit off the wall, one marked by a red crescent symbol. “Give this to either Jun- _hyung_ or your Xu Minghao, they would have been trained in first aid in the schools. And here, Seungkwanie, this is for you.” He reached into an open locker and pulled out two ICERs. “These are non-fatal, it just puts people down, but you have to get a shot in on an area of flesh, okay? It’s not completely ready yet so if it fails, _drop it and move on_.”

 

Soonyoung stared at the doctor’s rapid-fire instruction, privately considering how much he had underestimated him, not only because he thought he was just another weak intellectual, but because he was treating Seungkwan like an active member of his own team, not just a civilian contractor.

 

“I will, _hyung_ ,” Seungkwan promised, carefully taking the kit, then a weapons belt for the two ICERs. “Soonyoung- _hyung_ , I’m ready.”

 

* * *

 

Re-equipped, Soonyoung led the way back into the old fort.

 

They weren’t trying to be silent any longer, and Seungkwan’s footsteps clattered behind him as they ran through towards the basement. Ghost was still there, parchment-white as he propped himself up against the wall, and Seungkwan slid to his knees next to him, feeling at the base of his jaw as the Chinese man fought to keep his eyes open. Seungkwan hauled out two tablets that Seokmin had especially pressed into his hands, making him swallow them before handing over a bottle of water.

 

“I don’t know if I can take that level of technology through,” Jun croaked as he stared woozily at the alien rifle. “And if it explodes whilst we’re in the rock we’re toast.”

 

Seungkwan tried to prop him up. “Seokmin- _hyung_ said the pills will take some time to work in any case. I’ll take us in. I can sense the others from here.”

 

Soonyoung blinked. “You can? Can you also bring the prisoners out?”

 

Seungkwan’s ears coloured pink. “No,” he muttered, looking away. “I… um, I’m sensing some of the spells on Minghao- _hyung_ and, uh, Chwe Hansol-ssi. Can you come closer, _hyung_? Otherwise I might not have enough power.”

 

Just a little surprised, Soonyoung inched closer, until the three of them were in a tight huddle. There was a timeless moment, something that smelled like burning amber, and all of a sudden the cloying air of the city. There were people on them almost immediately – he pulled Seungkwan into his side hard enough to make the young man squeak, and it wasn’t until Jun called something that the confusion subsided.

 

“It’s us!” Seungkwan babbled, clearly still nervous. “Please don’t shoot.”

 

He placed the kit down at Minghao’s side, who started scrabbling around in it immediately, pulling out dull grey sachets and distributing them around. “Drink,” he ordered them softly but insistently, pressing two on Junhui as they had a short conversation in Mandarin.

 

“There had been an attack up there,” Soonyoung said around the mouthful of gloopy, disgusting concentrate. “They must have gotten in just after the second group left. Everyone is safe though – that doctor of yours is kinda badass.” He grinned like a loon. “Almost shot my face off with Eunji here.”

 

“Eunji?” Wonwoo asked as he ambled closer. “You named the rifle already? Seokmin-ah actually fired one of their rifles? You just took it and it works?”

 

Soonyoung nodded solemnly. “She's named after my _halmeoni_. Finders keepers, right? I can’t wait to give them a measure of their own medicine.” He measured Wonwoo’s frame, then handed the rifle to Hansol rather. “It does have a bit of a kick according to Seokmin. I’m not sure how it works, but you pull the trigger and magic happens. Everything still silent here?”

 

“Too silent,” Hansol muttered. “I think we need to make our move soon, in case they have a way to take people off-planet. We can’t afford to lose any of the _hyungdeul_.”

 

“Gaius,” Jun croaked. “You’re going to have to lead, I’m still recovering. Or…”

 

Wonwoo considered Jun, then Soonyoung with a measuring glance. “Actually, I think Hurricane should do it,” he said. “He seems extremely well-trained for this kind of thing.”

 

Soonyoung bit the inside of his cheek and reminded himself to be careful around Gaius, who seemed unnervingly aware under all that curly hair. What was in the past was in the past, after all. “We move together,” he said simply. “Same plan as before. Schrodinger, Gaius, in front with me. Arrow, Foresight, Ghost, behind him. If you see something blue, shoot first and ask questions later, we don’t want to get into fights.”

 

“Foresight?” Hansol asked curiously.

 

Seungkwan stuck his hand up nervously, then poked his cheeks with his index fingers. “Please take care of me, aing~”

 

It was the cutest thing Soonyoung had seen in some time; even with Gaius’ eyeroll the animal controller smiled a little, and Hansol seemed just a little poleaxed, rifle drooping a little.

 

Soonyoung readjust Eunji against his body and turned resolutely, marching out into the corridor. “Move out!” he called over his shoulder. “Make it through successfully and there’ll be ice cream for everyone on _hyung_ ’s account at the end!” Privately, thankful that the telepath wasn’t close, he prayed that his previous team’s bad luck didn’t infect this one.


	18. S01E18

Sneaking through the halls of the abandoned city with an alien rifle clutched to his chest, Hansol didn’t know what to make of the mission. He had never really had the power set to be one of the team’s big guns, so it felt a little weird to be in the vanguard with people clustered so closely to him. It wasn’t so difficult to shield them, though the hand clenching around his shirt in the small of his back made his nerves worse.

 

He didn’t know what to think of Seungkwan either. That time in the flower shop had a magical tint to it in his memories, and he didn’t know if it was the person or the magic being used to knock him out. He had apologised for the kiss but he hadn’t wanted to…

 

Shivering, he pulled his mind back and focused on the mission.

 

The place was a labyrinth of corridors with only the occasional tracks through accumulated mud or dust to lead them onwards. It made his eyes hurt to track but Soonyoung-ssi didn’t seem to have any trouble with it. _He_ scouted like a shark would hunt blood, and in the rare moments even he didn’t see anything Wonwoo-hyung’s nose led them past, pointed onwards by whatever magic Iggy employed.

 

Iggy was _scary_.

 

They rounded a corner and got a bare few seconds’ warning from the sound of two sets of boots trundling their way. Hurricane peeked frantically, said a word he almost got smacked for and beckoned them backwards, ushering them into a funny-shaped doorway full of rubble. They retreated in there, with Minghao-ssi and Seungkwan-ssi first, then the others; Hansol cursed when the doors started to revolve and ducked in barely quick enough to escape being caught. They were split up, with Minghao-ssi and Seungkwan-ssi trapped into the strange circular room with him, and the other openings clicking shut to clang shut, leaving them in darkness.

 

There came a gabble of shouting, the sounds of a fight, but the three of them were trapped in the darkness. Seconds later a small light in the roof went on, illuminating circular pedestal with shards scattered around it, not to mention bits and pieces that looked distressingly human, if humans could be turned to rock.

 

“Hyung,” Seungkwan muttered, curving his body close to Minghao. “Hyung, I don’t like the look of this…”

 

Minghao looked down at him, looked at the crystal, then at Hansol. “Close,” he said in his sweet, soft voice. “Come very close.”

 

Hansol barely made it in time. The crystal in the middle of the room exploded as he cowered in behind Minghao’s shield. Dust whirled too thick to see and little bits of rock-human peppered the barrier in front of them. Subconsciously, without thinking, he reached to pull Seungkwan in between the two of them a little more. Fascinated and fearful, barely breathing, he watched as sweat started glistening on the Chinese man’s forehead, tracing a slow line down to his jaw.

 

After what felt like an eternity, the noise ceased and the doors started revolving again; Minghao ushered them out with barely a murmur, all three desperate to get to the cleaner air on the other side of the strange room. Outside, hunkered around a very dead Kree, the three others in their group were having what sounded like a hissing argument.

 

“I had it under control!” Hurricane hissed at Gaius, and gestured to a leg that lay off to one side with a bloody hand. “We have guns! You don’t need to go Jaws!”

 

Gaius, dabbing gently at the corners of his mouth, rolled his eyes. “Jaws is a shark, which would be uncomfortable on land. That was a smilodon, a large cat.”

 

Jun, hauling the second alien back from where he had stuck his head through a rock wall, said nothing.

 

Hansol took a deep breath, passed the rifle in his hands off to Minghao, and went to kneel by the two corpses to strip them of valuables. Knives, weird little objects he didn’t know the meaning of, what looked like a set of holo-imprinted tags. He was as stoic as he could manage, but their blood was a funny shade, which looked strangely vivid in the city’s lights. Right at the end, digging down one leg pocket he pulled out a little cube.

 

Puzzling over it, he handed it to Seungkwan to hold, then laid out the rest of the things for the hyungdeul to inspect.

 

“Regardless,” Jun said tiredly. “It takes time to work together. Let’s not let too many more accidents happen. It’s likely they know there are others now, what with this city being half-alive or whatever it is. We’ll have to take the straightest way there, which…”

 

Minghao cleared his throat, straightening from where he had been examining one corpse’s bracer. “They are led by computer,” he said softly. “Strike team in old city?” He held up the bracer and nodded to Seungkwan, who fumbled the cube into a pocket before he nodded back.

 

Minghao tossed the bracer gently to Seungkwan. It didn’t land in the mystic’s hands, but was held in some kind of invisible force instead, spinning through three dimensions. Stretching his hands out as well, a barely-seen ripple came from them, until the bracer swam in slow, circular motions. Seconds later, with Minghao’s lip caught between his teeth, it lit up, broadcasting on its flattest plane before the light spread into the air.

 

Hansol, saying nothing, watched as plans and data flashed by.

 

“How is he doing that?” Jun asked softly, leaning closer.

 

Soonyoung grimaced as he kicked the leg aside, but unbent enough to pull Wonwoo up from the ground. “He’s respooling time along the bracer, making it show what it did in the past.” He pointed to Minghao, who was watching intently, pinhole camera trained on it. “Minghao-ah’s recording. When it’s done, we can play it back from end to start and work out a route back to their HQ.

 

Jun whistled. “Handy. You could win a lot of money that way.”

 

Seungkwan, pinpricks of sweat beading on his forehead, grimaced. “Not really. I tried to foresee the lottery results one day. I won about a thousand dollars, true, but then out of the blue the next day a council bill ducked up that I hadn’t known about, for a thousand one hundred dollars. I learnt my lesson fast.” He paused to eye Minghao. “I’m going to go faster, this is really tiring…”

 

Minghao nodded at him. The projection sped up, sweat increasingly beading on Seungkwan’s forehead, but five minutes later when he sagged back they had two hours of footage, which included maps and orders in strange languages and a path the leaders of the little group could trace back.

 

Soonyoung eyed it with uncanny quickness. “Back three crossings, then up along the right for two junctions, and we’ll be in the main artery,” he pointed out on the flat map Minghao had extrapolated and projected in a tiny tablet device for them. “We’ll take the secondary route here. They know we’re coming, they’ll draw back and dig in until the city can do their work for them. We’re up against superior forces with possible reinforcements, and we’re moving through a wired city.”

 

Wonwoo looked at him, looked at the leg to one side and smiled an uncomfortably bright smile. “I have an idea.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, hands and faces coated in blood, all six of them thundered through the corridors as they ran, pulse-weapon fire hot on their heels.

 

“I can’t believe I covered myself in blood for this stupid fucking idea!” Soonyoung screamed as he reached out to grab a flagging Junhui.

 

“Screw off!” Wonwoo roared as he cornered at speed, gnawed-off alien limb flapping behind him. “It works for sharks, they hunt blood! I thought the bio-data would confuse the sensors or something!”

 

“In no sci-fi does it work that way! Blood does not work that way! And that fucking song!”

 

“The beer bottle song is a classic, and we wanted their attention!”

 

“Run faster!” Minghao screamed, hauling Seungkwan along. “I not care, just run!”

 

At the front, outrunning everyone, Hansol skittered to a halt. “ _Hyungdeul_!” he yelled over his shoulder. “Stop, stop!”

 

They stopped so fast they collided in a heap of limbs, looking at the dead end.

 

Hansol, fighting his way free, reacted without thinking. He lunged swung the rifle in his arms around, spun on one heel and lashed out, right into the face of the first Kree to round the corner. Out of the corner of his eye he saw first a tiger of some sorts, then a bolt of lightning streak past. His lungs clogged with the need to breathe deeper but he fought on, wrestling the shocked alien down and to the ground. Seconds later he had him unconscious and came up again, wielding something that looked suspiciously like a painstik from old Star Trek reruns.

 

One jab against a kidney – he hoped it was a kidney – and one frustrated roar from the tiger thing that was Wonwoo, and the last of the patrol fell to the ground. He flipped the thing, threw it on the ground and looked at the party with a smile.

 

The smile froze on his face as the wall of the dead end opened up and swallowed Boo Seungkwan, giving only a small glimpse of an odd-looking stone before it clanged shut again.


End file.
